00&8EC 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Class 


HISTORIC     HANDBOOK 


OF   THE 


NORTHERN    TOUR. 


WOLFE. 
AGKD  32. 


HISTORIC    HANDBOOK 


OF    THE 


NORTHERN  TOUR. 


LAKES   GEORGE  AND   CHAMPLAIN ;    NIAGARA; 
MONTREAL;    QUEBEC. 


BY 

FRANCIS    PARKMAN. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,   BROWN,   AND    COMPANY. 

1899. 


Copyright,  18S5, 
BY  FRANCIS  PARKMAN. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


THIS  book  is  a  group  of  narratives  of  the  most  strik 
ing  events  of  our  colonial  history  connected  with  the 
principal  points  of  interest  to  the  tourist  visiting  Canada 
and  the  northern  borders  of  the  United  States. 

The  narratives  are  drawn,  with  the  addition  of  ex 
planatory  passages,  from  "  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac," 
"  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World,"  "  The  Jesuits 
in  North  America,"  "  Count  Frontenac,"  and  "  Mont- 
calm  and  Wolfe." 

BOSTON,  1  April,  1885. 


218998 


CONTENTS. 


LAKE  GEOBGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

PAGE 

DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN 3 

DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE  GEORGE 9 

BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE 16 

A  WINTER  RAID 40 

SIEGE  AND  MASSACRE  OF  FORT  WILLIAM  HEXRY     .  45 

BATTLE  OF  TICONDEROGA 65 

A  LEGEND  OF  TICONDEROGA 86 

NIAGARA. 

SIEGE  OF  FORT  NIAGARA 93 

MASSACRE  OF  THE  DEVIL'S  HOLE 98 

MONTREAL. 

THE  BIRTH  OF  MONTREAL 105 

QUEBEC. 

INFANCY  OF  QUEBEC 123 

A  MILITARY  MISSION 128 

MASSACHUSETTS  ATTACKS  QUEBEC 134 

THE  HEIGHTS  OF  ABRAHAM  154 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

THIS  beautiful  lake  owes  its  name  to  Samuel  de 
Champlain,  the  founder  of  Quebec.  In  1609,  long 
before  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  landed  at  Plymouth,  he 
joined  a  band  of  Huron  and  Algonquin  warriors  on  an 
expedition  against  their  enemies,  the  Iroquois,  since 
known  as  the  Five  Nations  of  New  York.  While  grati 
fying  his  own  love  of  adventure,  he  expected  to  make 
important  geographical  discoveries. 

After  a  grand  war  dance  at  the  infant  settlement  of 
Quebec,  the  allies  set  out  together.  Champlain  was  in 
a  boat,  carrying,  besides  himself,  eleven  men,  chief 
among  whom  were  one  Marais  and  a  pilot  named  La 
Routte,  all  armed  with  the  arquebuse,  a  species  of  fire 
arm  shorter  than  the  musket,  and  therefore  better  fitted 
for  the  woods. 

They  ascended  the  St.  Lawrence  and  entered  the 
Richelieu,  which  forms  the  outlet  of  Lake  Champlain. 
Here,  to  Champlain's  great  disappointment,  he  found 
his  farther  progress  barred  by  the  rapids  at  Chambly, 
though  the  Indians  had  assured  him  that  his  boat  could 
pass  all  the  way  unobstructed.  He  told  them  that 
though  they  had  deceived  him,  he  would  not  abandon 
them,  sent  Marais  with  the  boat  and  most  of  the  men 
back  to  Quebec,  and,  with  two  who  offered  to  follow 
him,  prepared  to  go  on  in  the  Indian  canoes. 


4      LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLA1N. 

The  warriors  lifted  their  canoes  from  the  water,  and 
in  long  procession  through  the  forest,  under  the  flicker 
ing  sun  and  shade,  bore  them  on  their  shoulders  around 
the  rapids  to  the  smooth  stream  above.  Here  the  chiefs 
made  a  muster  of  their  forces,  counting  twenty-four 
canoes  and  sixty  warriors.  All  embarked  again,  and 
advanced  once  more,  by  marsh,  meadow,  forest,  and 
scattered  islands,  then  full  of  game,  for  it  was  an  unin 
habited  land,  the  war-path  and  battle-ground  of  hostile 
tribes.  The  warriors  observed  a  certain  system  in  their 
advance.  Some  were  in  front  as  a  vanguard ;  others 
formed  the  main  body ;  while  an  equal  number  were  in 
the  forests  on  the  flanks  and  rear,  hunting  for  the  sub 
sistence  of  the  whole  ;  for,  though  they  had  a  provision 
of  parched  maize  pounded  into  meal,  they  kept  it  for  use 
when,  from  the  vicinity  of  the  enemy,  hunting  should 
become  impossible. 

Still  the  canoes  advanced,  the  river  widening  as 
they  went.  Great  islands  appeared,  leagues  in  extent : 
Isle  a  la  Motte,  Long  Island,  Grande  Isle.  Channels 
where  ships  might  float  and  broad  reaches  of  expanding 
water  stretched  between  them,  and  Champlain  entered 
the  lake  which  preserves  his  name  to  posterity.  Cum 
berland  Head  was  passed,  and  from  the  opening  of  the 
great  channel  between  Grande  Isle  and  the  main,  he 
could  look  forth  on  the  wilderness  sea.  Edged  with 
woods,  the  tranquil  flood  spread  southward  beyond  the 
sight.  Far  on  the  left,  the  forest  ridges  of  the  Green 
Mountains  were  heaved  against  the  sun,  patches  of  snow 
still  glistening  on  their  tops ;  and  on  the  right  rose  the 
Adirondacks,  haunts  in  these  later  years  of  amateur 
sportsmen  from  counting-rooms  or  college  halls,  nay, 
of  adventurous  beauty,  with  sketch-book  and  pencil. 
Then  the  Iroquois  made  them  their  hunting-ground  ;  and 


DISCOVERY    OF    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN.  5 

beyond,  in  the  valleys  of  the  Mohawk,  the  Onondaga, 
and  the  Genesee,  stretched  the  long  line  of  their  five 
cantons  and  palisaded  towns. 

The  progress  of  the  party  was  becoming  dangerous. 
They  changed  their  mode  of  advance,  and  moved  only 
in  the  night.  All  day,  they  lay  close  in  the  depth  of  the 
forest,  sleeping,  lounging,  smoking  tobacco  of  their  own 
raising,  and  beguiling  the  hours,  no  doubt,  with  the 
shallow  banter  and  obscene  jesting  with  which  knots  of 
Indians  are  wont  to  amuse  their  leisure.  At  twilight 
they  embarked  again,  paddling  their  cautious  way  till 
the  eastern  sky  began  to  redden.  Their  goal  was  the 
rocky  promontory  where  Fort  Ticonderoga  was  long 
afterward  built.  Thence,  they  would  pass  the  outlet 
of  Lake  George,  and  launch  their  canoes  again  on  that 
Como  of  the  wilderness,  whose  waters,  limpid  as  a 
fountain-head,  stretched  far  southward  between  their 
flanking  mountains.  Landing  at  the  future  site  of  Fort 
William  Henry,  they  would  carry  their  canoes  through 
the  forest  to  the  River  Hudson,  and  descending  it,  at 
tack,  perhaps,  some  outlying  town  of  the  Mohawks.  In 
the  next  century  this  chain  of  lakes  and  rivers  became 
the  grand  highway  of  savage  and  civilized  war,  a  bloodv 
debatable  ground  linked  to  memories  of  momentous 
conflicts. 

The  allies  were  spared  so  long  a  progress.  On  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-ninth  of  July,  after  paddling  all 
night,  they  hid  as  usual  in  the  forest  on  the  western 
shore,  riot  far  from  Crown  Point.  The  warriors  stretched 
themselves  to  their  slumbers,  and  Champlain,  after 
walking  for  a  time  through  the  surrounding  woods,  re 
turned  to  take  his  repose  on  a  pile  of  spruce-boughs. 
Sleeping,  he  dreamed  a  dream,  wherein  he  beheld  the 
Iroquois  drowning  in  the  lake ;  and,  essaying  to  rescue 


6  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

them,  he  was  told  by  his  Algonquin  friends  that  they 
were  good  for  nothing  and  had  better  be  left  to  their 
fate.  Now,  he  had  been  daily  beset,  on  awakening,  by 
his  superstitious  allies,  eager  to  learn  about  his  dreams ; 
and,  to  this  moment,  his  unbroken  slumbers  had  failed 
to  furnish  the  desired  prognostics.  The  announcement 
of  this  auspicious  vision  filled  the  crowd  with  joy,  and 
at  nightfall  they  embarked,  flushed  with  anticipated 
victories. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  they  descried 
dark  objects  in  motion  on  the  lake  before  them.  These 
were  a  flotilla  of  Iroquois  canoes,  heavier  and  slower  than 
theirs,  for  they  were  made  of  oak  or  elm  bark.  Each 
party  saw  the  other,  and  the  mingled  war-cries  pealed 
over  the  darkened  wrater.  The  Iroquois,  who  were  near 
the  shore,  having  no  stomach  for  an  aquatic  battle, 
landed,  and,  making  night  hideous  with  their  clamors, 
began  to  barricade  themselves.  Champlain  could  see 
them  in  the  woods,  laboring  like  beavers,  hacking  down 
trees  with  iron  axes  taken  from  the  Canadian  tribes 
in  war,  and  with  stone  hatchets  of  their  own  making. 
The  allies  remained  on  the  lake,  a  bowshot  from  the 
hostile  barricade,  their  canoes  made  fast  together  by 
poles  lashed  across.  All  night,  they  danced  with  as 
much  vigor  as  the  frailty  of  their  vessels  would  permit, 
their  throats  making  amends  for  the  enforced  restraint 
of  their  limbs.  It  was  agreed  on  both  sides  that  the 
fight  should  be  deferred  till  daybreak  ;  but  meanwhile 
a  commerce  of  abuse,  sarcasm,  menace,  and  boasting 
gave  unceasing  exercise  to  the  lungs  and  fancy  of  the 
combatants,  —  "  much,"  says  Champlain,  "  like  the 
besiegers  and  besieged  in  a  beleaguered  town." 

As  day  approached,  he  and  his  two  followers  put- 
on  the  light  armor  of  the  time.  Champlain  wore  the 


DISCOVERY    OF   LAKE    CHAMPLAIN.  7 

doublet  and  long  hose  then  in  vogue.  Over  the  doublet 
he  buckled  on  a  breastplate,  and  probably  a  back-piece, 
while  his  thighs  were  protected  by  cuisses  of  steel,  and 
his  head  by  a  plumed  casque.  Across  his  shoulder  hung 
the  strap  of  his  bandoleer,  or  ammunition-box ;  at  his 
side  was  his  sword,  and  in  his  hand  his  arquebuse,  which 
he  had  loaded  with  four  balls.  Such  was  the  equipment 
of  this  ancient  Indian-fighter,  whose  exploits  date  eleven 
years  before  the  landing  of  the  Puritans  at  Plymouth, 
and  sixty-six  years  before  King  Philip's  War. 

Each  of  the  three  Frenchmen  was  in  a  separate  canoe, 
and,  as  it  grew  light,  they  kept  themselves  hidden, 
either  by  lying  at  the  bottom,  or  covering  themselves 
with  an  Indian  robe.  The  canoes  approached  the  shore, 
and  all  landed  without  opposition  at  some  distance  from 
the  Iroquois,  whom  they  presently  could  see  filing  out  of 
their  barricade,  tall,  strong  men,  some  two  hundred  in 
number,  of  the  boldest  and  fiercest  warriors  of  North 
America.  They  advanced  through  the  forest  with  a 
steadiness  which  excited  the  admiration  of  Champlain. 
Among  them  could  be  seen  several  chiefs,  made  con 
spicuous  by  their  tall  plumes.  Some  bore  shields  of  wood 
and  hide,  and  some  were  covered  with  a  kind  of  armor 
made  of  tough  twigs  interlaced  with  a  vegetable  fibre 
supposed  by  Champlain  to  be  cotton. 

The  allies,  growing  anxious,  called  with  loud  cries 
for  their  champion,  and  opened  their  ranks  that  he 
might  pass  to  the  front.  He  did  so,  and,  advancing 
before  his  red  companions-in-arms,  stood  revealed  to 
the  astonished  gaze  of  the  Iroquois,  who,  beholding  the 
warlike  apparition  in  their  path,  stared  in  mute  amaze 
ment.  But  his  arquebuse  was  levelled ;  the  report 
startled  the  woods,  a  chief  fell  dead,  and  another  by 
his  side  rolled  among  the  bushes.  Then  there  rose 


8     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

from  the  allies  a  yell,  which,  says  Champlain,  would 
have  drowned  a  thunder-clap,  and  the  forest  was  full  of 
whizzing  arrows.  For  a  moment,  the  Iroquois  stood 
firm  and  sent  back  their  arrows  lustily ;  but  when  an 
other  and  another  gunshot  came  from  the  thickets  on 
their  flank,  they  broke  and  fled  in  uncontrollable  terror. 
Swifter  than  hounds,  the  allies  tore  through  the  bushes 
in  pursuit.  Some  of  the  Iroquois  were  killed ;  more 
were  taken.  Camp,  canoes,  provisions,  all  were  aban 
doned,  and  many  weapons  flung  down  in  the  panic 
flight.  The  arquebuse  had  done  its  work.  The  vic 
tory  was  complete. 

The  victors  made  a  prompt  retreat  from  the  scene  of 
their  triumph.  Three  or  four  days  brought  them  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Richelieu.  Here  they  separated ;  the 
Hurons  and  Algonquins  made  for  the  Ottawa,  their 
homeward  route,  each  with  a  share  of  prisoners  for 
future  torments.  At  parting  they  invited  Champlain 
to  visit  their  towns  and  aid  them  again  in  their  wars, 
-  an  invitation  which  this  paladin  of  the  woods  failed 
not  to  accept. 

Thus  did  New  France  rush  into  collision  with  the 
redoubted  warriors  of  the  Five  Nations.  Here  was  the 
beginning,  in  some  measure  doubtless  the  cause,  of  a 
long  suite  of  murderous  conflicts,  bearing  havoc  and 
flame  to  generations  yet  unborn.  Champlain  had  in 
vaded  the  tiger's  den ;  and  now,  in  smothered  fury,  the 
patient  savage  would  lie  biding  his  day  of  blood. 


DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE   GEORGE. 

TT  was  thirty-three  years  since  Champlain  had  first 
-*-  attacked  the  Iroquois.  They  had  nursed  their  wrath 
for  more  than  a  generation,  and  at  length  their  hour 
was  come.  The  Dutch  traders  at  Fort  Orange,  now 
Albany,  had  supplied  them  with  firearms.  The  Mo 
hawks,  the  most  easterly  of  the  Iroquois  nations,  had, 
among  their  seven  or  eight  hundred  warriors,  no  less 
than  three  hundred  armed  with  the  arquebuse.  They 
were  masters  of  the  thunderbolts  which,  in  the  hands  of 
Champlain,  had  struck  terror  into  their  hearts. 

In  the  early  morning  of  the  second  of  August,  1642, 
twelve  Huron  canoes  were  moving  slowly  along  the 
northern  shore  of  the  expansion  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
known  as  the  Lake  of  St.  Peter.  There  were  on  board 
about  forty  persons,  including  four  Frenchmen,  one  of 
them  being  the  Jesuit,  Isaac  Jogues.  During  the  last 
autumn  he,  with  Father  Charles  Raymbault,  had  passed 
along  the  shore  of  Lake  Huron  northward,  entered  the 
strait  through  which  Lake  Superior  discharges  itself, 
pushed  on  as  far  as  the  Sault  Sainte  Marie,  and  preached 
the  Faith  to  two  thousand  Ojibwas,  and  other  Algon- 
quins  there  assembled.  He  was  now  on  his  return  from 
a  far  more  perilous  errand.  The  Huron  mission  was 
in  a  state  of  destitution.  There  was  need  of  clothing 
for  the  priests,  of  vessels  for  the  altars,  of  bread  and 
wine  for  the  eucharist,  of  writing  materials,  —  in  short, 


10  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

of  everything ;  and,  early  in  the  summer  of  the  present 
year,  Jogucs  had  descended  to  Three  Rivers  and  Quebec 
with  the  Huron  traders,  to  procure  the  necessary  sup 
plies.  He  had  accomplished  his  task,  and  was  on  his 
way  hack  to  the  mission.  With  him  were  a  few  Huron 
converts,  and  among  them  a  noted  Christian  chief,  Eus- 
tache  Ahatsistari.  Others  of  the  party  were  in  course 
of  instruction  for  baptism;  but  the  greater  part  were 
heathen,  whose  canoes  were  deeply  laden  with  the  pro 
ceeds  of  their  bargains  with  the  French  fur-traders. 

Jogues  sat  in  one  of  the  leading  canoes.  He  was 
born  at  Orleans  in  1607,  and  was  thirty-five  years  of 
age.  His  oval  face  and  the  delicate  mould  of  his  feat 
ures  indicated  a  modest,  thoughtful,  and  refined  nature. 
He  was  constitutionally  timid,  with  a  sensitive  conscience 
and  great  religioiis  susceptibilities.  He  was  a  finished 
scholar,  and  might  have  gained  a  literary  reputation ; 
but  he  had  chosen  another  career,  and  one  for  which  he 
seemed  but  ill  fitted.  Physically,  however,  he  was  well 
matched  with  his  work  ;  for,  though  his  frame  was  slight, 
he  was  so  active,  that  none  of  the  Indians  could  surpass 
him  in  running. 

With  him  were  t\vo  young  men,  Rene  Goupil  and 
Guillaume  Couture*,  donne's  of  the  mission,  — that  is  to 
say,  laymen  who,  from  a  religious  motive  and  without 
pay,  had  attached  themselves  to  the  service  of  the 
Jesuits.  Goupil  had  formerly  entered  upon  the  Jesuit 
novitiate  at  Paris,  but  failing  health  had  obliged  him  to 
leave  it.  As  soon  as  he  was  able,  he  came  to  Canada, 
offered  his  services  to  the  Superior  of  the  mission,  was 
employed  for  a  time  in  the  humblest  offices,  and  after 
wards  became  an  attendant  at  the  hospital.  At  length, 
to  his  delight,  he  received  permission  to  go  up  to  the 
Hurons,  where  the  surgical  skill  which  he  had  acquired 


DISCOVERY    OF    LAKE    GEOKGE.  11 

was  greatly  needed  ;  and  he  was  now  on  his  way  thither. 
His  companion,  Couture,  was  a  man  of  intelligence  and 
vigor,  and  of  a  character  equally  disinterested.  Both 
were,  like  Jogues,  in  the  foremost  canoes  ;  while  the 
fourth  Frenchman  was  with  the  unconverted  Hurons,  in 
the  rear. 

The  twelve  canoes  had  reached  the  western  end  of  the 
Lake  of  St.  Peter,  where  it  is  filled  with  innumerable 
islands.  The  forest  was  close  on  their  right,  they  kept 
near  the  shore  to  avoid  the  current,  and  the  shallow 
water  before  them  was  covered  with  a  dense  growth  of 
tall  bulrushes.  Suddenly  the  silence  was  frightfully 
broken.  The  war-whoop  rose  from  among  the  rushes, 
mingled  with  the  reports  of  guns  and  the  whistling  of 
bullets  ;  and  several  Iroquois  canoes,  filled  with  warriors, 
pushed  out  from  their  concealment,  and  bore  down  upon 
Jogues  and  his  companions.  The  Hurons  in  the  rear 
were  seized  with  a  shameful  panic.  They  leaped  ashore  ; 
left  canoes,  baggage,  and  weapons  ;  and  fled  into  the 
woods.  The  French  and  the  Christian  Hurons  made 
fight  for  a  time  ;  but  when  they  saw  another  fleet  of 
canoes  approaching  from  the  opposite  shores  or  islands, 
they  lost  heart,  and  those  escaped  who  could.  Goupil 
was  seized  amid  triumphant  yells,  as  were  also  several 
of  the  Huron  converts.  Jogues  sprang  into  the  bul 
rushes,  and  might  have  escaped ;  but  when  he  saw 
Goupil  and  the  neophytes  in  the  clutches  of  the  Iroquois, 
he  had  no  heart  to  abandon  them,  but  came  out  from 
his  hiding-place,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  astonished 
victors.  A  few  of  them  had  remained  to  guard  the 
prisoners  ;  the  rest  were  chasing  the  fugitives.  Jogues 
mastered  his  agony,  and  began  to  baptize  those  of  the 
captive  converts  who  needed  baptism. 

Couture  had  eluded  pursuit ;  but  when  he  thought  of 


12  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    C11AMPLAIN. 

Jogues  and  of  what  perhaps  awaited  him,  he  resolved  to 
share  his  fate,  and,  turning,  retraced  his  steps.  As  he 
approached,  five  Iroquois  ran  forward  to  meet  him  ;  and 
one  of  them  snapped  his  gun  at  his  breast,  but  it  missed 
fire.  In  his  confusion  and  excitement,  Couture  fired  his 
own  piece,  and  laid  the  savage  dead.  The  remaining 
four  sprang  upon  him,  stripped  off  all  his  clothing,  tore 
away  his  finger-nails  with  their  teeth,  gnawed  his  fin 
gers  with  the  fury  of  famished  dogs,  and  thrust  a  sword 
through  one  of  his  hands.  Jogues  broke  from  his  guards, 
and,  rushing  to  his  friend,  threw  his  arms  about  his 
neck.  The  Iroquois  dragged  him  away,  beat  him  with 
their  fists  and  war-clubs  till  he  was  senseless,  and,  when 
he  revived,  lacerated  his  fingers  with  their  teeth,  as  they 
had  done  those  of  Couture.  Then  they  turned  upon 
Goupil,  and  treated  him  with  the  same  ferocity.  The 
Huron  prisoners  were  left  for  the  present  unharmed. 
More  of  them  were  brought  in  every  moment,  till  at 
length  the  number  of  captives  amounted  in  all  to  twenty- 
two,  while  three  Hurons  had  been  killed  in  the  fight 
and  pursuit.  The  Iroquois,  about  seventy  in  number, 
now  embarked  with  their  prey  ;  but  not  until  they  had 
knocked  on  the  head  an  old  Huron,  whom  Jogues,  with 
his  mangled  hands,  had  just  baptized,  and  who  refused 
to  leave  the  place.  Then,  under  a  burning  sun,  they 
crossed  to  the  spot  on  which  the  town  of  Sorel  now 
stands,  at  the  mouth  of  the  River  Richelieu,  where  they 
encamped. 

Their  course  was  southward,  up  the  River  Richelieu 
and  Lake  Champlain ;  thence,  by  way  of  Lake  George, 
to  the  Mohawk  towns.  The  pain  and  fever  of  their 
wounds,  and  the  clouds  of  mosquitoes,  which  they  could 
not  drive  off,  left  the  prisoners  no  peace  by  day  nor 
sleep  by  night.  On  the  eighth  day,  they  learned  that  a 


DISCOVERY    OF    LAKE    GEORGE.  13 

large  Iroquois  war-party,  on  their  way  to  Canada,  were 
near  at  hand  ;  and  they  soon  approached  their  camp,  on 
a  small  island  near  the  southern  end  of  Lake  Champlain. 
The  warriors,  two  hundred  in  number,  saluted  their  vic 
torious  countrymen  with  volleys  from  their  guns  ;  then, 
armed  with  clubs  and  thorny  sticks,  ranged  themselves 
in  two  lines,  between  which  the  captives  were  compelled 
to  pass  up  the  side  of  a  rocky  hill.  On  the  way,  they 
were  beaten  with  such  fury,  that  Jogues,  who  was  last 
in  the  line,  fell  powerless,  drenched  in  blood  and  half 
dead.  As  the  chief  man  among  the  French  captives,  he 
fared  the  worst.  His  hands  were  again  mangled,  and 
fire  applied  to  his  body  ;  while  the  Huron  chief,  Eustache, 
was  subjected  to  tortures  even  more  atrocious.  When, 
at  night,  the  exhausted  sufferers  tried  to  rest,  the  young 
warriors  came  to  lacerate  their  wounds  and  pull  out 
their  hair  and  beards. 

In  the  morning  they  resumed  their  journey.  And 
now  the  lake  narrowed  to  the  semblance  of  a  tranquil 
river.  Before  them  was  a  woody  mountain,  close  on 
their  right  a  rocky  promontory,  and  between  these  flowed 
a  stream,  the  outlet  of  Lake  George.  On  those  rocks, 
more  than  a  hundred  years  after,  rose  the  ramparts  of 
Ticonderoga.  They  landed,  shouldered  their  canoes  and 
baggage,  took  their  way  through  the  woods,  passed  the 
spot  where  the  fierce  Highlanders  and  the  dauntless 
regiments  of  England  breasted  in  vain  the  storm  of 
lead  and  fire,  and  soon  reached  the  shore  where  Aber- 
crombie  landed  and  Lord  Howe  fell.  First  of  white 
men,  Jogues  and  his  companions  gazed  on  the  romantic 
lake  that  bears  the  name,  not  of  its  gentle  discoverer, 
but  of  the  dull  Hanoverian  king.  Like  a  fair  Xaiad  of 
the  wilderness,  it  slumbered  between  the  guardian  moun 
tains  that  breathe  from  crag  and  forest  the  stern  poetry 


14          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

of  war.  But  all  then  was  solitude  ;  and  the  clang  of 
trumpets,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  deadly  crack  of 
the  rifle  had  never  as  yet  awakened  their  angry  echoes.1 

Again  the  canoes  were  launched,  and  the  wild  flotilla 
glided  on  its  way,  —  now  in  the  shadow  of  the  heights, 
now  on  the  broad  expanse,  now  among  the  devious  chan 
nels  of  the  narrows,  beset  with  woody  islets,  where  the 
hot  air  was  redolent  of  the  pine,  the  spruce,  and  the 
cedar, — till  they  neared  that  tragic  shore,  where,  in 
the  following  century,  New  England  rustics  baffled  the 
soldiers  of  Dieskau,  where  Montcalm  planted  his  bat 
teries,  where  the  red  cross  waved  so  long  amid  the 
smoke,  and  where  at  length  the  summer  morning  was 
hideous  with  carnage,  and  an  honored  name  was  stained 
with  a  memory  of  blood. 

The  Iroquois  landed  at  or  near  the  future  site  of  Fort 
William  Henry,  left  their  canoes,  and,  with  their  prison 
ers,  began  their  march  for  the  nearest  Mohawk  town. 
Each  bore  his  share  of  the  plunder.  Even  Jogues, 
though  his  lacerated  hands  were  in  a  frightful  condition 
and  his  body  covered  with  bruises,  was  forced  to  stagger 
on  with  the  rest  under  a  heavy  load.  He  with  his 
fellow-prisoners,  and  indeed  the  whole  party,  were  half 

1  Lake  George,  according  to  Jogues,  was  called  by  the  Mohawks 
"  Andiatarocte,"  or  Place  ivhere  the  Lake  closes.  "  Andiataraque "  is 
found  on  a  map  of  Sanson.  Spofford,  Gazetteer  of  New  York,  article 
"  Lake  George,"  says  that  it  was  called  "  Canideri-oit,"  or  Tail  of  the 
Lake.  Father  Martin,  in  his  notes  on  Bressani,  prefixes  to  this  name 
that  of  "  Horicon,"  but  gives  no  original  authority. 

I  have  seen  an  old  Latin  map  on  which  the  name  "  Horiconi "  is  set 
down  as  belonging  to  a  neighboring  tribe.  This  seems  to  be  only  a 
misprint  for  "  Horicoui,"  that  is,  "  Irocoui,"  or  "  Iroquois."  In  an  old 
English  map,  prefixed  to  the  rare  tract,  A  Treatise  of  New  England,  the 
•'  Lake  of  Hierocoyes  "  is  laid  down.  The  name  "  Horicon,"  as  used  by 
Cooper  in  his  f^ast  of  the  Mohicans,  has  no  sufficient  historical  foundation. 
In  1646,  the  lake,  as  we  shall  see,  was  named  "  Lac  St.  Sacrement." 


DISCOVERY    OF   LAKE    GEORGE.  15 

starved,  subsisting  chiefly  on  wild  berries.  They  crossed 
the  upper  Hudson,  and,  in  thirteen  days  after  leaving 
the  St.  Lawrence,  neared  the  wretched  goal  of  their  pil 
grimage,  a  palisaded  town,  standing  on  a  hill  by  the 
banks  of  the  River  MohaNvk. 

Such  was  the  first  recorded  visit  of  white  men  to  Lake 
George.  In  the  Iroquois  villages  Jogues  was  subjected 
to  the  most  frightful  sufferings.  His  friend  Goupil 
was  murdered  at  his  side,  and  he  himself  was  saved  as 
by  miracle.  At  length,  with  the  help  of  the  Dutch  of 
Albany,  he  made  his  escape  and  sailed  for  France ; 
whence,  impelled  by  religious  enthusiasm,  he  returned 
to  Canada  and  voluntarily  set  out  again  for  the  Iroquois 
towns,  bent  on  saving  the  souls  of  those  who  had  been 
the  authors  of  his  woes.  Reaching  the  head  of  Lake 
George  on  Corpus  Christi  Day,  1646,  he  gave  it  the 
name  of  Lac  St.  Sacrement,  by  which  it  was  ever 
after  known  to  the  French.  Soon  after  his  arrival  the 
Iroquois  killed  him  by  the  blow  of  a  hatchet. 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE   GEORGE. 

more  than  a  century  after  the  death  of  Jogues, 
Lakes  George  and  Champlain  were  the  great  route 
of  war  parties  between  Canada  and  the  British  Colonies. 
Courcelles  came  this  way  in  1666  to  lay  waste  the  Mo 
hawk  towns  ;  and  Mantet  and  Sainte-He'lene,  in  1690, 
to  destroy  Schenectady  in  the  dead  of  winter  ;  while, 
in  the  next  year,  Major  Schuyler  took  the  same  course 
as  he  advanced  into  Canada  to  retort  the  blow.  "When 
ever  there  was  Avar  between  France  and  England,  these 
two  lakes  became  the  scene  of  partisan  conflicts,  in 
which  the  red  men  took  part  with  the  white,  some  as 
allies  of  the  English,  and  some  as  allies  of  the  French. 
When  at  length  the  final  contest  took  place  for  the  pos 
session  of  the  continent,  the  rival  nations  fiercely  dis 
puted  the  mastery  of  this  great  wilderness  thoroughfare, 
and  the  borders  of  Lake  George  became  the  scene  of 
noteworthy  conflicts.  The  first  of  these  was  in  1755, 
the  year  of  Braddock's  defeat,  when  Shirley,  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  set  on  foot  an  expedition  for  the  capture 
of  Crown  Point,  a  fort  which  the  French  had  built  on 
Lake  Champlain  more  than  twenty  years  before. 

In  January,  Shirley  had  proposed  an  attack  on  it  to 
the  Ministry  ;  and  in  February,  without  waiting  their 
reply,  he  laid  the  plan  before  his  Assembly.  They  ac 
cepted  it,  and  voted  money  for  the  pay  and  maintenance 
of  twelve  hundred  men,  provided  the  adjacent  colonies 


THE  REGION  OF 
'  f .  fV  >'<'  tt  XJJiULsiJ^I 

from  surveys  made  in 

1762 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEOKGE.          17 

would    contribute    in    due    proportion.      Massachusetts 
showed  a  military  activity  worthy  of  the  reputation  she 
had  won.    Forty-live  hundred  of  her  men,  or  one  in  eight 
of  her  adult  males,  volunteered  to  fight  the  French,  and 
enlisted  for  the  various  expeditions,  some  in  the  pay  of 
the  province,  and  some  in  that  of  the  King.     It  remained 
to  name  a  commander  for  the  Crown  Point  enterprise. 
Nobody  had  power  to  do   so,  for  Braddock,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief,  was  not  yet  come  ;  but  that  time  might 
not  be  lost,   Shirley,  at  the  request  of   his  Assembly, 
took  the  responsibility  on  himself.     If  he  had  named  a 
Massachusetts  officer,  it  would  have  roused  the  jealousy 
of  the  other  New  England  colonies  ;  and  he  therefore 
appointed  William  Johnson,  of  New  York,  thus  gratifying 
that  important  province  and  pleasing  the  Five  Nations, 
who  at  this  time  looked  on  Johnson  with  even  more 
than  usual  favor.     Hereupon,  in  reply  to  his  request, 
Connecticut  voted  twelve  hundred  men,  New  Hampshire 
five    hundred,    and    Rhode     Island   four    hundred,   all 
at  their  own  charge  ;  while  New  York,  a  little    later, 
promised  eight  hundred  more.     When,  in  April,  Brad- 
dock  and  the  Council  at  Alexandria  approved  the  plan 
and  the    commander,  Shirley    gave   Johnson  the   com 
mission  of  major-general  of  the  levies  of  Massachusetts  ; 
and  the  governors  of  the  other  provinces  contributing  to 
the  expedition  gave  him  similar  commissions  for  their 
respective    contingents.      Never   did    general   take   the 
field  with  authority  so  heterogeneous. 

He  had  never  seen  service,  and  knew  nothing  of  war. 
By  birth  he  was  Irish,  of  good  family,  being  nephew  of 
Admiral  Sir  Peter  Warren,  who,  owning  extensive  wild 
lands  on  the  Mohawk,  had  placed  the  young  man  in 
charge  of  them  nearly  twenty  years  before.  Johnson 
was  born  to  prosper.  He  had  ambition,  energy,  an  active 


18     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

mind,  a  tall,  strong  person,  a  rough,  jovial  temper,  and  a 
quick  adaptation  to  his  surroundings.  He  could  drink 
Hip  with  Dutch  boors,  or  Madeira  with  royal  governors. 
He  liked  the  society  of  the  great,  would  intrigue  and  flat 
ter  when  he  had  an  end  to  gain,  and  foil  a  rival  without 
looking  too  closely  at  the  means  ;  but  compared  with 
the  Indian  traders  who  infested  the  border,  he  was  a 
model  of  uprightness.  He  lived  by  the  Mohawk  in  a 
fortified  house  which  was  a  stronghold  against  foes  and 
a  scene  of  hospitality  to  friends,  both  white  and  red. 
Here  —  for  his  tastes  were  not  fastidious  —  presided  for 
many  years  a  Dutch  or  German  wench  whom  he  finally 
married  ;  and  after  her  death  a  young  Mohawk  squaw 
took  her  place.  Over  his  neighbors,  the  Indians  of  the 
Five  Nations,  and  all  others  of  their  race  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal,  he  acquired  a  remarkable  influence.  He 
liked  them,  adopted  their  ways,  and  treated  them  kindly 
or  sternly  as  the  case  required,  but  always  with  a  justice 
and  honesty  in  strong  contrast  with  the  rascalities  of 
the  commission  of  Albany  traders  who  had  lately  man 
aged  their  affairs,  and  whom  they  so  detested  that  one 
of  their  chiefs  called  them  "  not  men,  but  devils." 
Hence,  when  Johnson  was  made  Indian  superintendent 
there  was  joy  through  all  the  Iroquois  confederacy. 
When,  in  addition,  he  was  made  a  general,  he  assembled 
the  warriors  in  council  to  engage  them  to  aid  the 
expedition. 

This  meeting  took  place  at  his  own  house,  known  as 
Fort  Johnson;  and  as  more  than  eleven  hundred  Ind 
ians  appeared  at  his  call,  his  larder  was  sorely  taxed 
to  entertain  them.  The  speeches  were  interminable. 
Johnson,  a  master  of  Indian  rhetoric,  knew  his  audience 
too  well  not  to  contest  with  them  the  palm  of  insuffer 
able  prolixity.  The  climax  was  reached  on  the  fourth 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          19 

day,  aiid  he  threw  down  the  war-belt.  An  Oneida  chief 
took  it  up ;  Stevens,  the  interpreter,  began  the  war- 
dance,  and  the  assembled  warriors  howled  in  chorus. 
Then  a  tub  of  punch  was  brought  in,  and  the}7  all  drank 
the  King's  health.  They  showed  less  alacrity,  however, 
to  fight  his  battles,  and  scarcely  three  hundred  of  them 
would  take  the  war-path.  Too  many  of  their  friends 
and  relatives  were  enlisted  for  the  French. 

While  the  British  colonists  were  preparing  to  attack 
Crown  Point,  the  French  of  Canada  were  preparing  to 
defend  it.  Duquesne,  recalled  from  his  post,  had  re 
signed  the  government  to  the  Marquis  de  Yaudreuil,  who 
had  at  his  disposal  the  battalions  of  regulars  that  had 
sailed  in  the  spring  from  Brest  under  Baron  Dieskau. 
His  first  thought  was  to  use  them  for  the  capture  of 
Oswego ;  but  letters  of  Braddock,  found  on  the  battle 
field  of  the  Monongahela,  warned  him  of  the  design 
against  Crown  Point ;  while  a  reconnoitring  party  which 
had  gone  as  far  as  the  Hudson  brought  back  news  that 
Johnson's  forces  were  already  in  the  field.  Therefore 
the  plan  was  changed,  and  Dieskau  was  ordered  to  lead 
the  main  body  of  his  troops,  not  to  Lake  Ontario,  but 
to  Lake  Champlain.  He  passed  up  the  Richelieu,  and 
embarked  in  boats  and  canoes  for  Crown  Point.  The 
veteran  knew  that  the  foes  with  whom  he  had  to  deal 
were  but  a  mob  of  countrymen.  He  doubted  not  of  put 
ting  them -to  rout,  and  meant  never  to  hold  his  hand  till 
he  had  chased  them  back  to  Albany.  "  Make  all  haste," 
Vaudreuil  wrote  to  him ;  "  for  when  you  return  we  shall 
send  you  to  Oswego  to  execute  our  first  design." 

Johnson  on  his  part  was  preparing  to  advance.  In 
July  about  three  thousand  provincials  were  encamped 
near  Albany,  some  on  the  "  Flats  "  above  the  town,  and 
some  on  the  meadows  below.  Hither,  too,  came  a  swarm 


20  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

of  Johnson's  Mohawks, — warriors,  squaws,  and  children. 
They  adorned  the  General's  face  with  war-paint,  and  he 
danced  the  war-dance ;  then  with  his  sword  he  cut  the 
first  slice  from  the  ox  that  had  been  roasted  whole 
for  their  entertainment,  "  i  shall  be  glad,"  wrote  the 
surgeon  of  a  New  England  regiment,  "  if  they  fight  as 
eagerly  as  they  ate  their  ox  and  drank  their  wine." 

Above  all  things  the  expedition  needed  promptness; 
yet  everything  moved  slowly.  Five  popular  legislatures 
controlled  the  troops  and  the  supplies.  Connecticut  had 
refused  to  send  her  men  till  Shirley  promised  that  her 
commanding  officer  should  rank  next  to  Johnson.  The 
whole  movement  was  for  some  time  at  a  deadlock  because 
the  five  governments  could  not  agree  about  their  con 
tributions  of  artillery  and  stores.  The  New  Hampshire 
regiment  had  taken  a  short  cut  for  Crown  Point  across 
the  wilderness  of  Vermont ;  but  had  been  recalled  in  time 
to  save  them  from  probable  destruction.  They  were  now 
with  the  rest  in  the  cam})  at  Albany,  in  such  distress 
for  provisions  that  a  private  subscription  was  proposed 
for  their  relief. 

Johnson's  army,  crude  as  it  was,  had  in  it  good  mate 
rial.  Here  was  Phineas  Lyman,  of  Connecticut,  second 
in  command,  once  a  tutor  at  Yale  College,  and  more 
recently  a  lawyer,  —  a  raw  soldier,  but  a  vigorous  and 
brave  one ;  Colonel  Moses  Titcomb,  of  Massachusetts, 
who  had  fought  with  credit  at  Louisbourg;  and  'Ephraim 
Williams,  also  colonel  of  a  Massachusetts  regiment,  a 
tall  and  portly  man,  who  had  been  a  captain  in  the  last 
war,  member  of  the  General  Court,  and  deputy-sheriff. 
He  made  his  will  in  the  camp  at  Albany,  and  left  a 
legacy  to  found  the  school  which  has  since  become  Wil 
liams  College.  His  relative,  Stephen  Williams,  was 
chaplain  of  his  regiment,  and  his  brother  Thomas  was 


BATTLE    OF    LAKE    GEOIiGE.  21 

its  surgeon.  Seth  Pouieroy,  gunsmith  at  Northampton, 
who,  like  Titcomb,  had  seen  service  at  Louisbourg,  was 
its  lieutenant-colonel.  He  had  left  a  wife  at  home,  an 
excellent  matron,  to  whom  he  was  continually  writing 
affectionate  letters,  mingling  household  cares  with  news 
of  the  camp,  and  charging  her  to  see  that  their  eldest 
boy,  Seth,  then  in  college  at  New  Haven,  did  not  run  off 
to  the  army.  Pomeroy  had  with  him  his  brother  Daniel ; 
and  this  he  thought  was  enough.  Here,  too,  was  a  man 
whose  name  is  still  a  household  word  in  New  England, 
—  the  sturdy  Israel  Putnam,  private  in  a  Connecticut 
regiment ;  and  another  as  bold  as  he,  John  Stark,  lieu 
tenant  in  the  New  Hampshire  levies,  and  the  future 
victor  of  Bennmgton. 

The  soldiers  were  no  soldiers,  but  farmers  and  farmers' 
sons  who  had  volunteered  for  the  summer  campaign. 
One  of  the  corps  had  a  blue  uniform  faced  with  red. 
The  rest  wore  their  daily  clothing.  Blankets  had  been 
served  out  to  them  by  the  several  provinces,  but  the 
greater  part  brought  their  own  guns ;  some  under  the 
penalty  of  a  fine  if  they  came  without  them,  and  some 
under  the  inducement  of  a  reward.  They  had  no  bay 
onets,  but  carried  hatchets  in  their  belts  as  a  sort  of 
substitute.  At  their  sides  were  slung  powder-horns,  on 
which,  in  the  leisure  of  the  camp,  they  carved  quaint 
devices  with  the  points  of  their  jack-knives.  They  came 
chiefly  from  plain  New  England  homesteads,  —  rustic 
abodes,  unpainted  and  dingy,  witli  long  well-sweeps, 
capacious  barns,  rough  fields  of  pumpkins  and  corn, 
and  vast  kitchen  chimneys,  above  which  in  winter  hung 
squashes  to  keep  them  from  frost,  and  guns  to  keep 
them  from  rust. 

As  to  the  manners  and  morals  of  the  army  there  is 
conflict  of  evidence.  In  some  respects  nothing  could 


22          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

be  more  exemplary.  "  Not  a  chicken  has  been  stolen," 
says  William  Smith,  of  New  York ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  Colonel  Ephraim  Williams  writes  to  Colonel 
Israel  Williams,  then  commanding  on  the  Massachusetts 
frontier:  "  We  are  a  wicked,  profane  army,  especially  the 
New  York  and  Rhode  Island  troops.  Nothing  to  be 
heard  among  a  great  part  of  them  but  the  language  of 
Hell.  If  Crown  Point  is  taken,  it  will  not  be  for  our 
sakes,  but  for  those  good  people  left  behind."  There 
was  edifying  regularity  in  respect  to  form.  Sermons 
twice  a  week,  daily  prayers,  and  frequent  psalm- 
singing  alternated  with  the  much-needed  military  drill. 
"  Prayers  among  us  night  and  morning,"  writes  Private 
Jonathan  Caswell,  of  Massachusetts,  to  his  father. 
"  Here  we  lie,  knowing  not  when  we  shall  march  for 
Crown  Point ;  but  I  hope  not  long  to  tarry.  Desiring 
your  prayers  to  God  for  me  as  I  am  agoing  to  war,  I 
am  Your  Ever  Dutiful  Son." 

To  Pomeroy  and  some  of  his  brothers  in  arms  it 
seemed  that  they  were  engaged  in  a  kind  of  crusade 
against  the  myrmidons  of  Rome.  "  As  you  have  at 
heart  the  Protestant  cause,"  he  wrote  to  his  friend 
Israel  Williams,  "  so  I  ask  an  interest  in  your  prayers 
that  the  Lord  of  Hosts  would  go  forth  with  us  and  give 
us  victory  over  our  unreasonable,  encroaching,  barbarous, 
murdering  enemies." 

Both  Williams  the  surgeon  and  Williams  the  colonel 
chafed  at  the  incessant  delays.  "  The  expedition  goes 
on  very  much  as  a  snail  runs,"  writes  the  former  to  his 
wife ;  "  it  seems  we  may  possibly  see  Crown  Point  this 
time  twelve  months."  The  Colonel  was  vexed  because 
everything  was  out  of  joint  in  the  department  of  trans 
portation  :  wagoners  mutinous  for  want  of  pay  ;  ordnance 
stores,  camp-kettles,  and  provisions  left  behind.  uAs  to 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          23 

rum,"  he  complains,  u  it  won't  hold  out  nine  weeks. 
Things  appear  most  melancholy  to  me."  Even  as  he 
was  writing,  a  report  came  of  the  defeat  of  Braddock ; 
and,  shocked  at  the  blow,  his  pen  traced  the  words:  "  The 
Lord  have  mercy  on  poor  New  England  ! " 

Johnson  had  sent  four  Mohawk  scouts  to  Canada. 
They  returned  on  the  twenty-first  of  August  with  the 
report  that  the  French  were  all  astir  with  preparation, 
and  that  eight  thousand  men  were  coming  to  defend 
Crown  Point.  On  this  a  council  of  war  was  called ;  and 
it  was  resolved  to  send  to  the  several  colonies  for 
reinforcements.  Meanwhile  the  main  body  had  moved 
up  the  river  to  the  spot  called  the  Great  Carrying  Place, 
where  Lyman  had  begun  a  fortified  storehouse,  which 
his  men  called  Fort  Lyman,  but  which  was  afterwards 
named  Fort  Edward.  Two  Indian  trails  led  from  this 
point  to  the  waters  of  Lake  Champlain,  one  by  way  of 
Lake  George,  and  the  other  by  way  of  Wood  Creek. 
There  was  doubt  which  course  the  army  should  take. 
A  road  was  begun  to  Wood  Creek  ;  then  it  was  counter 
manded,  and  a  party  was  sent  to  explore  the  path  to 
Lake  George.  "With  submission  to  the  general  of 
ficers,"  Surgeon  Williams  again  writes,  "  I  think  it  a 
very  grand  mistake  that  the  business  of  reconnoitring 
was  not  done  months  agone."  It  was  resolved  at  last 
to  march  for  Lake  George ;  gangs  of  axemen  were  sent 
to  hew  out  the  way ;  and  on  the  twenty-sixth  two  thou 
sand  men  were  ordered  to  the  lake,  while  Colonel 
Blanchard,  of  New  Hampshire,  remained  with  five  hun 
dred  to  finish  and  defend  Fort  Lyman. 

The  train  of  Dutch  wagons,  guarded  by  the  homely 
soldiery,  jolted  slowly  over  the  stumps  and  roots  of  the 
newly  made  road,  and  the  regiments  followed  at  their 
leisure.  The  hardships  of  the  way  were  not  without 


24  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CI1AMPLAIN. 

their  consolations.  The  jovial  Irishman  who  held  the 
chief  command  made  himself  very  agreeable  to  the  New 
England  officers.  "  We  went  on  about  four  or  five  miles," 
says  Pomeroy  in  his  Journal, "  then  stopped,  ate  pieces  of 
broken  bread  and  cheese,  and  drank  some  fresh  lemon- 
punch  and  the  best  of  wine  with  General  Johnson  and 
some  of  the  field-officers."  It  was  the  same  on  the  next 
day.  "  Stopped  about  noon  and  dined  with  General 
Johnson  by  a  small  brook  under  a  tree ;  ate  a  good 
dinner  of  cold  boiled  and  roast  venison ;  drank  good 
fresh  lemon-punch  and  wine." 

That  afternoon  they  reached  their  destination,  four 
teen  miles  from  Fort  Lyman.  The  most  beautiful  lake 
in  America  lay  before  them ;  then  more  beautiful  than 
now,  in  the  wild  charm  of  untrodden  mountains  and 
virgin  forests.  "  I  have  given  it  the  name  of  Lake 
George,"  wrote  Johnson  to  the  Lords  of  Trade,  "  not 
only  in  honor  of  His  Majesty,  but  to  ascertain  his  un 
doubted  dominion  here."  His  men  made  their  camp 
on  a  piece  of  rough  ground  by  the  edge  of  the  water, 
pitching  their  tents  among  the  stumps  of  the  newly 
felled  trees.  In  their  front  was  a  forest  of  pitch-pine ; 
on  their  right,  a  marsh,  choked  with  alders  and  swamp- 
maples ;  on  their  left,  the  low  hill  where  Fort  George 
was  afterwards  built ;  and  at  their  rear,  the  lake.  Little 
was  done  to  clear  the  forest  in  front,  though  it  would 
give  excellent  cover  to  an  enemy.  Nor  did  Johnson 
take  much  pains  to  learn  the  movements  of  the  French 
in  the  direction  of  Crown  Point,  though  he  sent  scouts 
towards  South  Bay  and  Wood  Creek.  Every  day  stores 
and  bateaux,  or  flat  boats,  came  on  wagons  from  Fort 
Lyman ;  and  preparation  moved  on  with  the  leisure  that 
had  marked  it  from  the  first.  About  three  hundred 
Mohawks  came  to  the  camp,  and  were  regarded  by  the 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          25 

New  England  men  as  nuisances.  On  Sunday  the  gray- 
haired  Stephen  Williams  preached  to  these  savage  allies 
a  long  Calvinistic  sermon,  which  must  have  sorely  per 
plexed  the  interpreter  whose  business  it  was  to  turn 
it  into  Mohawk ;  and  in  the  afternoon  young  Chaplain 
Newell,  of  Rhode  Island,  expounded  to  the  New  England 
men  the  somewhat  untimely  text,  "  Love  your  enemies." 
On  the  next  Sunday,  September  seventh,  Williams 
preached  again,  this  time  to  the  whites  from  a  text 
in  Isaiah.  It  was  a  peaceful  day,  fair  and  warm,  with 
a  few  light  showers  ;  yet  not  wholly  a  day  of  rest,  for 
two  hundred  wagons  came  up  from  Fort  Lyman,  loaded 
with  bateaux.  After  the  sermon  there  was  an  alarm. 
An  Indian  scout  came  in  about  sunset,  and  reported 
that  he  had  found  the  trail  of  a  body  of  men  moving 
from  South  Bay  towards  Fort  Lyman.  Johnson  called 
for  a  volunteer  to  carry  a  letter  of  warning  to  Colonel 
Blanchard,  the  commander.  A  wagoner  named  Adams 
offered  himself  for  the  perilous  service,  mounted,  and 
galloped  along  the  road  with  the  letter.  Sentries  were 
posted,  and  the  camp  fell  asleep. 

While  Johnson  lay  at  Lake  George,  Dieskau  prepared 
a  surprise  for  him.  The  German  Baron  had  reached 
Crown  Point  at  the  head  of  three  thousand  five  hundred 
and  seventy-three  men,  regulars,  Canadians,  and  Indians. 
He  had  no  thought  of  waiting  there  to  be  attacked.  The 
troops  were  told  to  hold  themselves  ready  to  move  at 
a  moment's  notice.  Officers  —  so  ran  the  order  —  will 
take  nothing  with  them  but  one  spare  shirt,  one  spare 
pair  of  shoes,  a  blanket,  a  bearskin,  and  provisions  for 
twelve  days;  Indians  are  not  to  amuse  themselves  by 
taking  scalps  till  the  enemy  is  entirely  defeated,  since 
they  can  kill  ten  men  in  the  time  required  to  scalp  one. 
Then  Dieskau  moved  on,  with  nearly  all  his  force,  to 


26          LAKE    GEORGE   AND    LAKE    CIJAMPLAIN. 

Carillon,  or  Ticonderoga,  a  promontory  commanding 
both  the  routes  by  which  alone  Johnson  could  advance, 
that  of  Wood  Creek  and  that  of  Lake  George. 

The  Indian  allies  were  commanded  by  Legardeur  de 
Saint-Pierre.  These  unmanageable  warriors  were  a  con 
stant  annoyance  to  Dieskau,  being  a  species  of  humanity 
quite  new  to  him.  "They  drive  us  crazy,"  he  says, 
"from  morning  till  night.  There  is  no  end  to  their 
demands.  They  have  already  eaten  five  oxen  and  as 
many  hogs,  without  counting  the  kegs  of  brandy  they 
have  drunk.  In  short,  one  needs  the  patience  of  an 
angel  to  get  on  with  these  devils  ;  and  yet  one  must 
always  force  himself  to  seem  pleased  with  them." 

They  would  scarcely  even  go  out  as  scouts.  At  last, 
however,  on  the  fourth  of  September,  a  reconnoitring 
party  came  in  with  a  scalp  and  an  English  prisoner 
caught  near  Fort  Lyman.  He  was  questioned  under  the 
threat  of  being  given  to  the  Indians  for  torture  if  he  did 
not  tell  the  truth ;  but,  nothing  daunted,  he  invented  a 
patriotic  falsehood ;  and  thinking  to  lure  his  captors 
into  a  trap,  told  them  that  the  English  army  had  fallen 
back  to  Albany,  leaving  five  hundred  men  at  Fort 
Lyman,  which  he  represented  as  indefensible.  Dieskau 
resolved  on  a  rapid  movement  to  seize  the  place.  At 
noon  of  the  same  day,  leaving  a  part  of  his  force  at 
Ticonderoga,  he  embarked  the  rest  in  canoes  and  ad 
vanced  along  the  narrow  prolongation  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain  that  stretched  southward  through  the  wilderness 
to  where  the  town  of  Whitehall  now  stands.  He  soon 
came  to  a  point  where  the  lake  dwindled  to  a  mere  canal, 
while  two  mighty  rocks,  capped  with  stunted  forests, 
faced  each  other  from  the  opposing  banks.  Here  he 
left  an  officer  named  Roquemaure  with  a  detachment 
of  troops,  and  again  advanced  along  a  belt  of  quiet  water 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEOKGE.          27 

traced  through  the  midst  of  a  deep  marsh,  green  at 
that  season  with  sedge  and  water- weeds,  and  known 
to  the  English  as  the  Drowned  Lands.  Beyond,  on 
either  hand,  crags  feathered  with  birch  and  fir,  or  hills 
mantled  with  woods,  looked  down  on  the  long  procession 
of  canoes.  As  they  neared  the  site  of  Whitehall,  a  pas 
sage  opened  on  the  right,  the  entrance  to  a  sheet  of 
lonely  water  slumbering  in  the  shadow  of  woody  moun 
tains,  and  forming  the  lake  then,  as  now,  called  South 
Bay.  They  advanced  to  its  head,  landed  where  a  small 
stream  enters  it,  left  the  canoes  under  a  guard,  and 
began  their  march  through  the  forest.  They  counted 
in  all  two  hundred  and  sixteen  regulars  of  the  battalions 
of  Languedoc  and  La  Reine,  six  hundred  and  eighty- 
four  Canadians,  and  about  six  hundred  Indians.  Every 
officer  and  man  carried  provisions  for  eight  days  in  his 
knapsack.  They  encamped  at  night  by  a  brook,  and  in 
the  morning,  after  hearing  Mass,  marched  again.  The 
evening  of  the  next  day  brought  them  near  the  road  that 
led  to  Lake  George.  Fort  Lyman  was  but  three  miles 
distant.  A  man  on  horseback  galloped  by ;  it  was 
Adams,  Johnson's  unfortunate  messenger.  The  Indians 
shot  him,  and  found  the  letter  in  his  pocket.  Soon 
after,  ten  or  twelve  wagons  appeared  in  charge  of  mu 
tinous  drivers,  who  had  left  the  English  camp  without 
orders.  Several  of  them  were  shot,  two  were  taken,  and 
the  rest  ran  off.  The  two  captives  declared  that,  con 
trary  to  the  assertion  of  the  prisoner  at  Ticonderoga,  a 
large  force  lay  encamped  at  the  lake.  The  Indians  now 
held  a  council,  and  presently  gave  out  that  they  would 
not  attack  the  fort,  which  they  thought  well  supplied 
with  cannon,  but  that  they  were  willing  to  attack  the 
camp  at  Lake  George.  Remonstrance  was  lost  upon 
them.  Dieskau  was  not  young,  but  he  was  daring  to 


28          LAKE    GEORGE    AND   LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

rashness,  and  inflamed  to  emulation  by  the  victory  over 
Braddock.  The  enemy  were  reported  greatly  to  outnum 
ber  him  ;  but  his  Canadian  advisers  had  assured  him 
that  the  English  colony  militia  were  the  worst  troops 
on  the  face  of  the  earth.  "  The  more  there  are,"  ho 
said  to  the  Canadians  and  Indians,  "  the  more  we  shall 
kill ; "  and  in  the  morning  the  order  was  given  to  march 
for  the  lake. 

They  moved  rapidly  on  through  the  waste  of  pines, 
and  soon  entered  the  rugged  valley  that  led  to  Johnson's 
camp.  On  their  right  was  a  gorge  where,  shadowed  in 
bushes,  gurgled  a  gloomy  brook ;  and  beyond  rose  the 
cliffs  that  buttressed  the  rocky  heights  of  French  Moun 
tain,  seen  by  glimpses  between  the  boughs.  On  their 
left  rose  gradually  the  lower  slopes  of  West  Mountain. 
All  was  rock,  thicket,  and  forest ;  there  was  no  open 
space  but  the  road  along  which  the  regulars  marched, 
while  the  Canadians  and  Indians  pushed  their  way 
through  the  woods  in  such  order  as  the  broken  ground 
would  permit. 

They  were  three  miles  from  the  lake,  when  their 
scouts  brought  in  a  prisoner  who  told  them  that  a  col 
umn  of  English  troops  was  approaching.  Dieskau's 
preparations  were  quickly  made.  While  the  regulars 
halted  on  the  road,  the  Canadians  and  Indians  moved 
to  the  front,  where  most  of  them  hid  in  the  forest  along 
the  slopes  of  West  Mountain,  and  the  rest  lay  close 
among  the  thickets  on  the  other  side.  Thus,  when  the 
English  advanced  to  attack  the  regulars  in  front,  they 
Avould  find  themselves  caught  in  a  double  ambush.  No 
sight  or  sound  betrayed  the  snare ;  but  behind  every 
bush  crouched  a  Canadian  or  a  savage,  with  gun  cocked 
and  ears  intent,  listening  for  the  tramp  of  the  approach 
ing  column. 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.  29 

The  wagoners  who  escaped  the  evening  before  had 
reached  the  camp  about  midnight,  and  reported  that 
there  was  a  war-party  on  the  road  near  Fort  Lymari. 
Johnson  had  at  this  time  twenty-two  hundred  effective 
men,  besides  his  three  hundred  Indians.  He  called  a 
council  of  war  in  the  morning,  and  a  resolution  was 
taken  which  can  only  be  explained  by  a  complete  mis 
conception  as  to  the  force  of  the  French.  It  was  de 
termined  to  send  out  two  detachments  of  five  hundred 
men  each,  one  towards  Fort  Lyman,  and  the  other 
towards  South  Bay,  the  object  being,  according  to  John 
son,  "  to  catch  the  enemy  in  their  retreat."  Hendrick, 
chief  of  the  Mohawks,  a  brave  and  sagacious  warrior, 
expressed  his  dissent  after  a  fashion  of  his  own.  He 
picked  up  a  stick  and  broke  it ;  then  he  picked  up 
several  sticks,  and  showed  that  together  they  could  not 
be  broken.  The  hint  was  taken,  and  the  two  detach 
ments  were  joined  in  one.  Still  the  old  savage  shook 
his  head.  "  If  they  are  to  be  killed,"  he  said,  u  they 
are  too  many ;  if  they  are  to  fight,  they  are  too  few." 
Nevertheless,  he  resolved  to  share  their  fortunes ;  and 
mounting  on  a  gun-carriage,  he  harangued  his  warriors 
with  a  voice  so  animated,  and  gestures  so  expressive, 
that  the  New  England  officers  listened  in  admiration, 
though  they  understood  not  a  word.  One  difficulty 
remained.  He  was  too  old  and  fat  to  go  afoot ;  but 
Johnson  lent  him  a  horse,  which  he  bestrode,  and  trotted 
to  the  head  of  the  column,  followed  by  two  hundred  of 
his  warriors  as  fast  as  they  could  grease,  paint,  and 
befeather  themselves. 

Captain  Elisha  Hawley  was  in  his  tent,  finishing  a 
letter  which  he  had  just  written  to  his  brother  Joseph ; 
and  these  were  the  last  words :  "  I  am  this  minute  ago 
ing  out  in  company  with  five  hundred  men  to  see  if  we 


30  LAKE    GEORGE    AXD    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

can  intercept  'em  in  their  retreat,  or  find  their  canoes 
in  the  Drowned  Lands ;  and  therefore  must  conclude 
this  letter."  He  closed  and  directed  it ;  and  in  an  hour 
received  his  death-wound. 

It  was  soon  after  eight  o'clock  when  Ephraim  Wil 
liams  left  the  camp  with  his  regiment,  marched  a  little 
distance,  and  then  waited  for  the  rest  of  the  detachment 
under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Whiting.  Tims  Dieskau  had 
full  time  to  lay  his  ambush.  When  Whiting  came  up, 
the  whole  moved  on  together,  so  little  conscious  of  dan 
ger  that  no.  scouts  were  thrown  out  in  front  or  flank ; 
and,  in  full  security,  they  entered  the  fatal  snare.  Be 
fore  they  were  completely  involved  in  it,  the  sharp  eye 
of  old  Hendrick  detected  some  sign  of  an  enemy.  At 
that  instant,  whether  by  accident  or  design,  a  gun  was 
fired  from  the  bushes.  It  is  said  that  Dieskau's  Iroquois, 
seeing  Mohawks,  their  relatives,  in  the  van,  wished  to 
warn  them  of  danger.  If  so,  the  warning  came  too  late. 
The  thickets  on  the  left  blazed  out  a  deadly  fire,  and 
the  men  fell  by  scores.  In  the  words  of  Dieskau,  the 
head  of  the  column  "was  doubled  up  like  a  pack  of 
cards."  Hendrick's  horse  was  shot  down,  and  the  chief 
wras  killed  with  a  bayonet  as  he  tried  to  rise.  Williams, 
seeing  a  rising  ground  on  his  right,  made  for  it,  calling 
on  his  men  to  follow ;  but  as  he  climbed  the  slope,  guns 
flashed  from  the  bushes,  and  a  shot  through  the  brain 
laid  him  dead.  The  men  in  the  rear  pressed  forward 
to  support  their  comrades,  when  a  hot  fire  was  suddenly 
opened  on  them  from  the  forest  along  their  right  flank. 
Then  there  was  a  panic  ;  some  fled  outright,  and  the 
whole  column  recoiled.  The  van  now  became  the  rear, 
and  all  the  force  of  the  enemy  rushed  upon  it,  shouting 
and  sereechinir.  There  was  a  moment  of  total  confusion ; 
but  a  part  of  Williams's  regiment  rallied  under  command 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          31 

of  Whiting,  and  covered  the  retreat,  fighting  behind  trees 
like  Indians,  and  firing  and  falling  back  by  turns,  bravely 
aided  by  some  of  the  Mohawks  and  by  a  detachment 
which  Johnson  sent  to  their  aid.  u  And  a  very  hand 
some  retreat  they  made,"  writes  Pomeroy ;  "  and  so 
continued  till  they  came  within  about  three  quarters  of 
a  mile  of  our  camp.  This  was  the  last  fire  our  men  gave 
our  enemies,  which  killed  great  numbers  of  them ;  they 
were  seen  to  drop  as  pigeons."  So  ended  the  fray  long 
known  in  New  England  fireside  story  as  the  "bloody 
morning  scout."  Dieskau  now  ordered  a  halt,  and 
sounded  his  trumpets  to  collect  his  scattered  men.  His 
Indians,  however,  were  sullen  and  unmanageable,  and 
the  Canadians  also  showed  signs  of  wavering.  The 
veteran  who  commanded  them  all,  Legardeur  de  Saint- 
Pierre,  had  been  killed.  At  length  they  were  persuaded 
to  move  again,  the  regulars  leading  the  way. 

About  an  hour  after  Williams  and  his  men  had  begun 
their  march,  a  distant  rattle  of  musketry  was  heard  at 
the  camp;  and  as  it  grew  nearer  and  louder,  the  lis 
teners  knew  that  their  comrades  were  on  the  retreat. 
Then,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  preparations  were  begun  for 
defence.  A  sort  of  barricade  was  made  along  the  front 
of  the  camp,  partly  of  wagons,  and  partly  of  inverted 
bateaux,  but  chiefly  of  the  trunks  of  trees  hastily  hewn 
down  in  the  neighboring  forest  and  laid  end  to  end  in 
a  single  row.  The  line  extended  from  the  southern 
slopes  of  the  hill  on  the  left  across  a  tract  of  rough 
ground  to  the  marshes  on  the  right.  The  forest,  choked 
with  bushes  and  clumps  of  rank  ferns,  was  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  barricade,  and  there  was  scarcely  time  to 
hack  away  the  intervening  thickets.  Three  cannon  were 
planted  to  sweep  the  road  that  descended  through  the 
pines,  and  another  was  dragged  up  to  the  ridge  of  the 


32          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

hill.  The  defeated  party  began  to  come  in ;  first,  scared 
fugitives  both  white  and  red;  then,  gangs  of  men  bring 
ing  the  wounded ;  and  at  last,  an  hour  and  a  half  after 
the  first  fire  was  heard,  the  main  detachment  was  seen 
marching  in  compact  bodies  down  the  road. 

Five  hundred  men  were  detailed  to  guard  the  flanks 
of  the  camp.  The  rest  stood  behind  the  wagons  or  lay 
flat  behind  the  logs  and  inverted  bateaux,  the  Massachu 
setts  men  on  the  right,  and  the  Connecticut  men  on  the 
left.  Besides  Indians,  this  actual  fighting  force  was 
between  sixteen  and  seventeen  hundred  rustics,  very  few 
of  whom  had  been  under  fire  before  that  morning.  They 
were  hardly  at  their  posts  when  they  saw  ranks  of  white- 
coated  soldiers  moving  down  .  the  road,  and  bayonets 
that  to  them  seemed  innumerable  glittering  between  the 
boughs.  At  the  same  time  a  terrific  burst  of  war-whoops 
rose  along  the  front ;  and,  in  the  ,  words  of  Pomeroy, 
"  the  Canadians  and  Indians,  helter-skelter,  the  woods 
full  of  them,  came  running  with  undaunted  courage  right 
down  the  hill  upon  us,  expecting  to  make  us  flee." 
Some  of  the  men  grew  uneasy ;  while  the  chief  officers, 
sword  in  hand,  threatened  instant  death  to  any  who 
should  stir  from  their  posts.  If  Dieskau  had  made  an 
assault  at  that  instant,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of  the 
result. 

This  he  well  knew ;  but  he  was  powerless.  He  had 
his  small  force  of  regulars  well  in  hand ;  but  the  rest, 
red  and  white,  were  beyond  control,  scattering  through 
the  woods  and  swamps,  shouting,  yelling,  and  firing  from 
behind  trees.  The  regulars  advanced  with  intrepidity  to 
wards  the  camp  where  the  trees  were  thin,  deployed,  and 
fired  by  platoons,  till  Captain  Eyre,  who  commanded  the 
artillery,  opened  on  them  with  grape,  broke  their  ranks, 
and  compelled  them  to  take  to  cover.  The  fusillade 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          33 

was  now  general  on  both  sides,  and  soon  grew  furious. 
"  Perhaps,"  Seth  Pomeroy  wrote  to  his  wife,  two  days 
after,  "  the  hailstones  from  heaven  were  never  much 
thicker  than  their  bullets  -came  ;  but,  blessed  be  God  ! 
that  did  not  in  the  least  daunt  or  disturb  us."  Johnson 
received  a  flesh-wound  in  the  thigh,  and  spent  the  rest 
of  the  day  in  his  tent.  Lyinan  took  command ;  and  it 
is  a  marvel  that  he  escaped  alive,  for  he  was  four  hours 
in  the  heat  of  the  fire,  directing  and  animating  the  men. 
"  It  was  the  most  awful  day  my  eyes  ever  beheld,"  wrote 
Surgeon  Williams  to  his  wife  ;  "  there  seemed  to  be 
nothing  but  thunder  and  lightning  and  perpetual  pillars 
of  smoke."  To  him,  his  colleague  Doctor  Pynchon,  one 
assistant,  and  a  young  student  called  "  Billy,"  fell  the 
charge  of  the  wounded  of  his  regiment.  u  The  bullets 
flew  about  our  ears  all  the  time  of  dressing  them ;  so 
we  thought  best  to  leave  our  tent  and  retire  a  few  rods 
behind  the  shelter  of  a  log-house."  On  the  adjacent  hill 
stood  one  Blodget,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  sutler, 
watching,  as  well  as  bushes,  trees,  and  smoke  would  let 
him,  the  progress  of  the  fight,  of  which  he  soon  after 
made  and  published  a  curious  bird's-eye  view.  As  the 
wounded  men  were  carried  to  the  rear,  the  wagoners 
about  the  camp  took  their  guns  and  powder-horns,  and 
joined  in  the  fray.  A  Mohawk,  seeing  one  of  these  men 
still  unarmed,  leaped  over  the  barricade,  tomahawked 
the  nearest  Canadian,  snatched  his  gun,  and  darted  back 
unhurt.  The  brave  savage  found  no  imitators  among 
his  tribesmen,  most  of  whom  did  nothing  but  utter  a  few 
war-whoops,  saying  that  they  had  come  to  see  their 
English  brothers  fight.  Some  of  the  French  Indians 
opened  a  distant  flank  fire  from  the  high  ground  beyond 
the  swamp  on  the  right,  but  were  driven  off  by  a  few 
shells  dropped  among  them. 

3 


34    LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLA1N. 

Dieskau  had  directed  his  first  attack  against  the  left 
and  centre  of  Johnson's  position.  Making  no  impression 
here,  he  tried  to  force  the  right,  where  lay  the  regiments 
of  Titcomb,  Haggles,  and  Williams.  The  fire  was  hot 
for  about  an  hour.  Titcomb  was  shot  dead,  a  rod  in 
front  of  the  barricade,  firing  from  behind  a  tree  like  a 
common  soldier.  At  length  Dieskau,  exposing  himself 
within  short  range  of  the  English  line,  was  hit  in  the 
leg.  His  adjutant,  Montreuil,  himself  wounded,  came  to 
his  aid,  and  was  washing  the  injured  limb  with  brandy, 
when  the  unfortunate  commander  was  again  hit  in  the 
knee  and  thigh.  He  seated  himself  behind  a  tree,  while 
the  Adjutant  called  two  Canadians  to  carry  him  to  the 
rear.  One  of  them  was  instantly  shot  down.  Montreuil 
took  his  place  ;  but  Dieskau  refused  to  be  moved,  bitterly 
denounced  the  Canadians  and  Indians,  and  ordered  the 
Adjutant  to  leave  him  and  lead  the  regulars  in  a  last 
effort  against  the  camp. 

It  was  too  late.  Johnson's  men,  singly  or  in  small 
squads,  were  already  crossing  their  row  of  logs ;  and  in 
a  few  moments  the  whole  dashed  forward  with  a  shout, 
falling  upon  the  enemy  with  hatchets  and  the  butts  of 
their  guns.  The  French  and  their  allies  fled.  The 
wounded  General  still  sat  helpless  by  the  tree,  when  he 
saw  a  soldier  aiming  at  him.  He  signed  to  the  man  not 
to  fire  ;  but  he  pulled  trigger,  shot  him  across  the  hips, 
leaped  upon  him,  and  ordered  him  in  French  to  surren 
der.  "I  said,"  writes  Dieskau,  "'You  rascal,  why  did 
you  fire?  You  see  a  man  lying  in  his  blood  on  the 
ground,  and  you  shoot  him  ! '  He  answered  :  '  How  did 
I  know  that  you  had  not  got  a  pistol  ?  I  had  rather  kill 
the  devil  than  have  the  devil  kill  me.'  4  You  are  a 
Frenchman  ? '  I  asked.  «  Yes,'  he  replied  ;  '  it  is  more 
than  ten  years  since  I  left  Canada ; '  whereupon  several 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEOKGE.          35 

others  fell  on  me  and  stripped  me.  I  told  them  to  carry 
me  to  their  general,  which  they  did.  On  learning  who  1 
was,  he  sent  for  surgeons,  and,  though  wounded  himself, 
refused  all  assistance  till  my  wounds  were  dressed." 

It  was  near  five  o'clock  when  the  final  rout  took  place. 
Some  time  before,  several  hundred  of  the  Canadians  and 
Indians  had  left  the  field  and  returned  to  the  scene  of 
the  morning  fight,  to  plunder  and  scalp  the  dead.  They 
were  resting  themselves  near  a  pool  in  the  forest,  close 
beside  the  road,  when  their  repose  was  interrupted  by 
a  volley  of  bullets.  It  was  fired  by  a  scouting  party 
from  Fort  Lyman,  chiefly  backwoodsmen,  under  Captains 
Folsom  and  McGinnis.  The  assailants  were  greatly 
outnumbered ;  but  after  a  hard  fight  the  Canadians 
and  Indians  broke  and  fled.  McGinnis  was  mortally 
wounded.  He  continued  to  give  orders  till  the  firing 
was  over ;  then  fainted,  and  was  carried,  dying,  to  the 
camp.  The  bodies  of  the  slain,  according  to  tradition, 
were  thrown  into  the  pool,  which  bears  to  this  day  the 
name  of  Bloody  Pond. 

The  various  bands  of  fugitives  rejoined  each  other 
towards  night,  and  encamped  in  the  forest ;  then  made 
their  way  round  the  southern  shoulder  of  French  Moun 
tain,  till,  in  the  next  evening,  they  reached  their  canoes. 
Their  plight  was  deplorable  ;  for  they  had  left  their 
knapsacks  behind,  and  were  spent  with  fatigue  and 
famine. 

Meanwhile  their  captive  general  was  not  yet  out  of 
danger.  The  Mohawks  were  furious  at  their  losses  in 
the  ambush  of  the  morning,  and  above  all  at  the  death 
of  Hendrick.  Scarcely  were  Dieskau's  wounds  dressed, 
when  several  of  them  came  into  the  tent.  There  was  a 
long  and  angry  dispute  in  their  own  language  between 
them  and  Johnson,  after  which  they  went  out  very 


36     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

sullenly.  Dieskau  asked  what  they  wanted.  "  What  do 
they  want  ? "  returned  Johnson.  "  To  burn  you,  by 
God,  eat  you,  and  smoke  you  in  their  pipes,  in  revenge 
for  three  or  four  of  their  chiefs  that  were  killed.  But 
never  fear ;  you  shall  be  s.afe  with  me,  or  else  they  shall 
kill  us  both."  The  Mohawks  soon  came  back,  and  another 
talk  ensued,  excited  at  first,  and  then  more  calm  ;  till 
at  length  the  visitors,  seemingly  appeased,  smiled,  gave 
Dieskau  their  hands  in  sign  of  friendship,  and  quietly 
went  out  again.  Johnson  warned  him  that  he  was  not 
yet  safe  ;  and  when  the  prisoner,  fearing  that  his  pres 
ence  might  incommode  his  host,  asked  to  be  removed  to 
another  tent,  a  captain  and  fifty  men  were  ordered  to 
guard  him.  In  the  morning  an  Indian,  alone  and  appar 
ently  unarmed,  loitered  about  the  entrance,  and  the 
stupid  sentinel  let  him  pass  in.  He  immediately  drew 
a  sword  from  under  a  sort  of  cloak  which  he  wore,  and 
tried  to  stab  Dieskau  ;  but  was  prevented  by  the  colonel 
to  whom  the  tent  belonged,  who  seized  upon  him,  took 
away  his  sword,  and  pushed  him  out.  As  soon  as  his 
wounds  would  permit,  Dieskau  was  carried  on  a  litter, 
strongly  escorted,  to  Fort  Lyman,  whence  he  was  sent 
to  Albany,  and  afterwards  to  New  York.  He  is  profuse 
in  expressions  of  gratitude  for  the  kindness  shown  him 
by  the  colonial  officers,  and  especially  by  Johnson.  Of 
the  provincial  soldiers  he  remarked  soon  after  the  battle 
that  in  the  morning  they  fought  like  good  boys,  about 
noon  like  men,  and  in  the  afternoon  like  devils.  In  the 
spring  of  1757  he  sailed  for  England,  and  was  for  a 
time  at  Falmouth ;  whence  Colonel  Matthew  Sewell, 
fearing  that  he  might  see  and  learn  too  much,  wrote  to 
the  Earl  of  Holdernesse :  "  The  Baron  has  great  pene 
tration  and  quickness  of  apprehension.  His  long  service 
under  Marshal  Saxe  renders  him  a  man  of  real  conse- 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.          37 

quence,  to  be  cautiously  observed.  His  circumstances 
deserve  compassion,  for  indeed  they  are  very  melancholy, 
and  I  much  doubt  of  his  being  ever  perfectly  cured." 
He  was  afterwards  a  long  time  at  Bath,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  waters.  In  1760  the  famous  Diderot  met  him  at 
Paris,  cheerful  and  full  of  anecdote,  though  wretchedly 
shattered  by  his  wounds.  He  died  a  few  years  later. 

On  the  night  after  the  battle  the  yeomen  warriors  felt 
the  truth  of  the  saying  that,  next  to  defeat,  the  saddest 
thing  is  victory.  Comrades  and  friends  by  scores  lay 
scattered  through  the  forest.  As  soon  as  he  could  snatch 
a  moment's  leisure,  the  overworked  surgeon  sent  the 
dismal  tidings  to  his  wife  :  "  My  dear  brother  Ephraim 
was  killed  by  a  ball  through  his  head  ;  poor  brother 
Josiah's  wound  I  fear  will  prove  mortal  ;  poor  Captain 
Hawley  is  yet  alive,  though  I  did  not  think  he  would 
live  two  hours  after  bringing  him  in."  Daniel  Pomeroy 
was  shot  dead  ;  and  his  brother  Seth  wrote  the  news 
to  his  wife  Rachel,  who  was  just  delivered  of  a  child  : 
"  Dear  Sister,  this  brings  heavy  tidings  ;  but  let  not 
your  heart  sink  at  the  news,  though  it  be  your  loss  of  a 
dear  husband.  Monday  the  eighth  instant  was  a  mem 
orable  day  ;  and  truly  you  may  say,  had  not  the  Lord 
been  on  our  side,  we  must  all  have  been  swallowed  up. 
My  brother,  being  one  that  went  out  in  the  first  engage 
ment,  received  a  fatal  shot  through  the  middle  of  the 
head."  Seth  Pomeroy  found  a  moment  to  write  also  to 
his  own  wife,  whom  he  tells  that  another  attack  is  ex 
pected  ;  adding,  in  quaintly  pious  phrase  :  "  But  as  God 
hath  begun  to  show  mercy,  I  hope  he  will  go  on  to  be 
gracious."  Pomeroy  was  employed  during  the  next  few 
days  with  four  hundred  men  in  what  he  calls  "  the 
melancholy  piece  of  business  "  of  burying  the  dead.  A 
letter-writer  of  the  time  does  not  approve  what  was  done 


38     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

on  this  occasion.  "  Our  people,"  he  says,  "  not  only 
buried  the  French  dead,  but  buried  as  many  of  them  as 
might  be  without  the  knowledge  of  our  Indians,  to  pre 
vent  their  being  scalped.  This  I  call  an  excess  of  civil 
ity  ;  "  his  reason  being  that  Braddock's  dead  soldiers 
had  been  left  to  the  wolves. 

The  English  loss  in  killed,  wounded,  and  missing  was 
two  hundred  and  sixty-two  ;  and  that  of  the  French,  by 
their  own  account,  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight,  —  a 
somewhat  modest  result  of  five  hours'  fighting.  The 
English  loss  was  chiefly  in  the  ambush  of  the  morning, 
where  the  killed  greatly  outnumbered  the  wounded, 
because  those  who  fell  and  could  not  be  carried  away 
were  tomahawked  by  Dieskau's  Indians.  In  the  fight 
at  the  camp,  both  Indians  and  Canadians  kept  them 
selves  so  well  under  cover  that  it  was  very  difficult  for 
the  New  England  men  to  pick  them  off,  while  they  on 
their  part  lay  close  behind  their  row  of  logs.  On  the 
French  side,  the  regular  officers  and  troops  bore  the 
brunt  of  the  battle  and  suffered  the  chief  loss,  nearly  all 
of  the  former  and  nearly  half  of  the  latter  being  killed 
or  wounded. 

Johnson  did  not  follow  up  his  success.  He  says  that 
his  men  were  tired.  Yet  five  hundred  of  them  had 
stood  still  all  day,  and  boats  enough  for  their  transpor 
tation  were  lying  on  the  beach.  Ten  miles  down  the 
lake,  a  path  led  over  a  gorge  of  the  mountains  to  South 
Bay,  where  Dieskau  had  left  his  canoes  and  provisions. 
It  needed  but  a  few  hours  to  reach  and  destroy  them  ; 
but  no  such  attempt  was  made.  Nor,  till  a  week  after, 
did  Johnson  send  out  scouts  to  learn  the  strength  of  the 
enemy  at  Ticonderoga.  Lyman  strongly  urged  him  to 
make  an  effort  to  seize  that  important  pass  ;  but  Johnson 
thought  only  of  holding  his  own  position.  "  I  think," 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEOKGE.  39 

he  wrote,  "  we  may  expect  very  shortly  a  more  formi 
dable  attack."  He  made  a  solid  breastwork  to  defend 
his  camp;  and  as  reinforcements  arrived,  set  them  at 
building  a  fort,  which  he  .named  Fort  William  Henry, 
on  a  rising  ground  by  the  lake.  It  is  true  that  just  after 
the  battle  he  was  deficient  in  stores,  and  had  not  bateaux 
enough  to  move  his  whole  force.  It  is  true,  also,  that 
he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  was  too  jealous  of  Lyman 
to  delegate  the  command  to  him ;  and  so  the  days  passed 
till,  within  a  fortnight,  his  nimble  enemy  were  intrenched 
at  Ticonderoga  in  force  enough  to  defy  him. 

The  Crown  Point  expedition  was  a  failure  disguised 
under  an  incidental  success. 


A   WINTER  RAID. 

~\  T  7IIILE  Johnson  was  building  Fort  William  Henry 
*  »  at  one  end  of  Lake  George,  the  French  began 
Fort  Ticonderoga  at  the  other,  though  they  did  not 
finish  it  till  the  next  year.  In  the  winter  of  1757, 
hearing  that  the  English  were  making  great  prepara 
tions  at  Fort  William  Henry  to  attack  them,  they 
resolved  to  anticipate  the  blow  and  seize  that  post  by 
surprise.  To  this  end,  Vaudreuil,  Governor  of  Canada, 
sent  a  large  detachment  from  Montreal,  while  the  small 
body  of  troops  and  provincials  who  occupied  the  English 
fort  remained  wholly  ignorant  of  the  movement. 

On  St.  Patrick's  Day,  the  seventeenth  of  March,  the 
Irish  soldiers  who  formed  a  part  of  the  garrison  of  Fort 
William  Henry  wrere  paying  homage  to  their  patron 
saint  in  libations  of  heretic  rum,  the  product  of  New 
England  stills ;  and  it  is  said  that  John  Stark's  rangers 
forgot  theological  differences  in  their  zeal  to  share  the 
festivity.  The  story  adds  that  they  were  restrained 
by  their  commander,  and  that  their  enforced  sobriety 
proved  the  saving  of  the  fort.  This  may  be  doubted  ; 
for  without  counting  the  English  soldiers  of  the  garrison 
who  had  no  special  call  to  be  drunk  that  day,  the  fort 
was  in  no  danger  till  twenty-four  hours  after,  when  the 
revellers  had  had  time  to  rally  from  their  pious  carouse. 
Whether  rangers  or  British  soldiers,  it  is  certain  that 
watchmen  were  on  the  alert  during  the  night  between 


A    WINTER    RAID.  41 

the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth,  and  that  towards  one  in 
the  morning  they  heard  a  sound  of  axes  far  down  the 
lake,  followed  by  the  faint  glow  of  a  distant  fire.  The 
inference  was  plain,  that  an  enemy  was  there,  and  that 
the  necessity  of  warming  himself  had  overcome  his  cau 
tion.  Then  all  was  still  for  some  two  hours,  when, 
listening  in  the  pitchy  darkness,  the  watchers  heard  the 
footsteps  of  a  great  body  of  men  approaching  on  the  ice, 
which  at  the  time  was  bare  of  snow.  The  garrison  were 
at  their  posts,  and  all  the  cannon  on  the  side  towards 
the  lake  vomited  grape  and  round-shot  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound,  which  thereafter  was  heard  no  more. 

Those  who  made  it  were  the  detachment,  called  by 
Yaudreuil  an  army,  sent  by  him  to  seize  the  English 
fort.  Shirley  had  planned  a  similar  stroke  against 
Ticonderoga  a  year  before ;  but  the  provincial  levies  had 
come  in  so  slowly,  and  the  ice  had  broken  up  so  soon, 
that  the  scheme  was  abandoned.  Vaudreuil  was  more 
fortunate.  The  whole  force,  regulars,  Canadians,  and 
Indians,  was  ready  to  his  hand.  No  pains  were  spared 
in  equipping  them.  Overcoats,  blankets,  bearskins  to 
sleep  on,  tarpaulins  to  sleep  under,  spare  moccasons, 
spare  mittens,  kettles,  axes,  needles,  awls,  flint  and 
steel,  and  many  miscellaneous  articles  were  provided,  to 
be  dragged  by  the  men  on  light  Indian  sledges,  along 
with  provisions  for  twelve  days.  The  cost  of  the  ex 
pedition  is  set  at  a  million  francs,  answering  to  more 
than  as  many  dollars  of  the  present  time.  To  the  dis 
gust  of  the  officers  from  France,  the  Governor  named 
his  brother  Rigaud  for  the  chief  command ;  and  before 
the  end  of  February  the  whole  party  was  on  its  march 
along  the  ice  of  Lake  Champlain.  They  rested  nearly 
a  week  at  Ticonderoga,  where  no  less  than  three  hun 
dred  short  scaling-ladders,  so  constructed  that  two  or 


42     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLA1N. 

more  could  be  joined  in  one,  had  been  made  for  them ; 
and  here,  too,  they  received  a  reinforcement,  which 
raised  their  number  to  sixteen  hundred.  Then,  march 
ing  three  days  along  Lake  George,  they  neared  the  fort 
on  the  evening  of  the  eighteenth,  and  prepared  for  a 
general  assault  before  daybreak. 

The  garrison,  including  rangers,  consisted  of  three 
hundred  and  forty-six  effective  men.  The  fort  was  not 
strong,  and  a  resolute  assault  by  numbers  so  superior 
must,  it  seems,  have  overpowered  the  defenders  ;  but 
the  Canadians  and  Indians  who  composed  most  of  the 
attacking  force  were  not  suited  for  such  work ;  and, 
disappointed  in  his  hope  of  a  surprise,  Rigaud  withdrew 
them  at  daybreak,  after  trying  in  vain  to  burn  the 
buildings  outside.  A  few  hours  after,  the  whole  body 
reappeared,  filing  off  to  surround  the  fort,  on  which  they 
kept  up  a  brisk  but  harmless  fire  of  musketry.  In  the 
night  they  were  heard  again  on  the  ice,  approaching  as 
if  for  an  assault ;  and  the  cannon,  firing  towards  the 
sound,  again  drove  them  back.  There  was  silence  for 
a  while,  till  tongues  of  flame  lighted  up  the  gloom,  and 
two  sloops,  ice-bound  in  the  lake,  and  a  large  number  of 
bateaux  on  the  shore  were  seen  to  be  on  fire.  A  party 
sallied  to  save  them ;  but  it  was  too  late.  In  the 
morning  they  were  all  consumed,  and  the  enemy  had 
vanished. 

It  was  Sunday,  the  twentieth.  Everything  was  quiet 
till  noon,  when  the  French  filed  out  of  the  woods  and 
marched  across  the  ice  in  procession,  ostentatiously 
carrying  their  scaling-ladders,  and  showing  themselves 
to  the  best  effect.  They  stopped  at  a  safe  distance, 
fronting  towards  the  fort,  and  several  of  them  advanced, 
waving  a  red  flag.  An  officer  with  a  few  men  went  to 
meet  them,  and  returned  bringing  Le  Mcrcier,  chief  of 


A    WINTER   RAID.  43 

the  Canadian  artillery,  who,  being  led  blindfold  into  the 
fort,  announced  himself  as  bearer  of  a  message  from 
Rigaud.  He  was  conducted  to  the  room  of  Major  Eyre, 
where  all  the  British  officers  were  assembled ;  arid,  after 
mutual  compliments,  he  invited  them  to  give  up  the 
place  peaceably,  promising  the  most  favorable  terms, 
and  threatening  a  general  assault  and  massacre  in  case 
of  refusal.  Eyre  said  that  he  should  defend  himself  to 
the  last ;  and  the  envoy,  again  blindfolded,  was  led  back 
to  whence  he  came. 

The  whole  French  force  now  advanced  as  if  to  storm 
the  works,  and  the  garrison  prepared  to  receive  them. 
Nothing  came  of  it  but  a  fusillade,  to  which  the  British 
made  no  reply.  At  night  the  French  were  heard  ad 
vancing  again,  and  each  man  nerved  himself  for  the 
crisis.  The  real  attack,  however,  was  not  against  the 
fort,  but  against  the  buildings  outside,  which  consisted 
of  several  storehouses,  a  hospital,  a  saw-mill,  and  the 
huts  of  the  rangers,  besides  a  sloop  on  the  stocks  and 
piles  of  planks  and  cord-wood.  Covered  by  the  night, 
the  assailants  crept  up  with  fagots  of  resinous  sticks, 
placed  them  against  the  farther  side  of  the  buildings, 
kindled  them,  and  escaped  before  the  flame  rose ;  while 
the  garrison,  straining  their  ears  in  the  thick  darkness, 
fired  wherever  they  heard  a  sound.  Before  morning  all 
around  them  was  in  a  blaze,  and  they  had  much  ado  to 
save  the  fort  barracks  from  the  shower  of  burning 
cinders.  At  ten  o'clock  the  fires  had  subsided,  and  a 
thick  fall  of  snow  began,  filling  the  air  with  a  restless 
chaos  of  large  moist  flakes.  This  lasted  all  day  and  all 
the  next  night,  till  the  ground  and  the  ice  were  covered 
to  a  depth  of  three  feet  and  more.  The  French  lay 
close  in  their  camps  till  a  little  before  dawn  on  Tuesday 
morning,  when  twenty  volunteers  from  the  regulars 


44  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CI1AMPLA1N. 

made  a  bold  attempt  to  burn  the  sloop  on  the  stocks, 
with  several  storehouses  and  other  structures,  and 
several  hundred  scows  and  whaleboats  which  had  thus 
far  escaped.  They  were  only  in  part  successful ;  but 
they  fired  the  sloop  and  sonic  buildings  near  it,  and 
stood  far  out  on  the  ice  watching  the  naming  vessel,  a 
superb  bonfire  amid  the  wilderness  of  snow.  The 
spectacle  cost  the  volunteers  a  fourth  of  their  number 
killed  and  wounded. 

On  Wednesday  morning  the  sun  rose  bright  on  a 
scene  of  wintry  splendor,  and  the  frozen  lake  was  dotted 
with  Rigaud's  retreating  followers  toiling  towards  Can 
ada  on  snow-shoes.  Before  they  reached  it  many  of 
them  were  blinded  for  a  while  by  the  insufferable  glare, 
and  their  comrades  led  them  homewards  by  the  hand. 


SIEGE  AND   MASSACRE  OF  FORT   WILLIAM 
HENRY. 

HAVING  failed  to  take  Fort  William  Henry  by  sur 
prise,  the  French  resolved  to  attack  it  with  all  the 
force  they  could  bring  against  it,  and  in  the  summer  of 
1757  the  Marquis  de  Montcalm  and  the  Chevalier  de 
Levis  advanced  against  it  with  about  eight  thousand  reg 
ulars,  Canadians,  and  Indians.  The  whole  assembled  at 
Ticonderoga,  where  several  weeks  were  spent  in  prepa 
ration.  Provisions,  camp  equipage,  ammunition,  cannon, 
and  bateaux  were  dragged  by  gangs  of  men  up  the  road 
to  the  head  of  the  rapids.  The  work  went  on  through 
heat  and  rain,  by  day  and  night,  till,  at  the  end  of  July, 
all  was  done. 

The  bateaux  lay  ready  by  the  shore,  but  could  not 
carry  the  whole  force ;  and  LeVis  received  orders  to 
march  by  the  side  of  the  lake  with  twenty-five  hundred 
men,  Canadians,  regulars,  and  Iroquois.  He  set  out  at 
daybreak  of  the  thirtieth  of  July,  his  men  carrying  noth 
ing  but  their  knapsacks,  blankets,  and  weapons.  Guided 
by  the  unerring  Indians,  they  climbed  the  steep  gorge 
at  the  side  of  Rogers  Rock,  gained  the  valley  beyond, 
and  marched  southward  along  a  Mohawk  trail  which 
threaded  the  forest  in  a  course  parallel  to  the  lake.  The 
way  was  of  the  roughest ;  many  straggled  from  the  line, 
and  two  officers  completely  broke  down.  The  first  des 
tination  of  the  party  was  the  mouth  of  Ganouskie  Bay, 


46     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

now  called  Northwest  Bay,  where  they  were  to  wait  for 
Montcalm,  and  kindle  three  fires  as  a  signal  that  they 
had  reached  the  rendezvous. 

Montcalm  left  a  detachment  to  hold  Ticonderoga ; 
and  then,  on  the  first  of  August,  at  two  in  the  afternoon, 
he  embarked  at  the  Burned  Camp  with  all  his  remaining 
force.  Including  those  with  Levis,  the  expedition  counted 
about  seven  thousand  six  hundred  men,  of  whom  more 
than  sixteen  hundred  were  Indians.  At  five  in  the 
afternoon  they  reached  the  place  where  the  Indians,  who 
had  gone  on  before  the  rest,  were  smoking  their  pipes 
and  waiting  for  the  army.  The  red  warriors  embarked, 
and  joined  the  French  flotilla  ;  and  now,  as  evening  drew 
near,  was  seen  one  of  those  wild  pageantries  of  war 
which  Lake  George  has  often  witnessed.  A  restless 
multitude  of  birch  canoes,  filled  with  painted  savages, 
glided  by  shores  and  islands,  like  troops  of  swimming 
water-fowl.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  bateaux  came  next, 
moved  by  sail  and  oar,  some  bearing  the  Canadian 
militia,  and  some  the  battalions  of  Old  France  in  trim 
and  gay  attire :  first,  La  Reine  and  Languedoc  ;  then 
the  colony  regulars ;  then  La  Sarre  and  Guienne ;  then 
the  Canadian  brigade  of  Courtemanche ;  then  the  can 
non  and  mortars,  each  on  a  platform  sustained  by  two 
bateaux  lashed  side  by  side,  and  rowed  by  the  militia  of 
Saint-Ours ;  then  the  battalions  of  Beam  and  Royal 
Roussillon  ;  then  the  Canadians  of  Gaspe,  with  the  pro 
vision-bateaux  and  the  field-hospital ;  and,  lastly,  a  rear 
guard  of  regulars  closed  the  line.  So,  under  the  flush 
of  sunset,  they  held  their  course  along  the  romantic 
lake,  to  play  their  part  in  the  historic  drama  that  lends 
a  stern  enchantment  to  its  fascinating  scenery.  They 
passed  the  Narrows  in  mist  and  darkness ;  and  when,  a 
little  before  dawn,  they  rounded  the  high  promontory  of 


SIEGE    OF   FORT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  47 

Tongue  Mountain,  they  saw,  far  on  the  right,  three  fiery 
sparks  shining  through  the  gloom.  These  were  the 
signal-fires  of  LeVis,  to  tell  them  that  he  had  reached 
the  appointed  spot. 

Levis  had  arrived  the  evening  before,  after  his  hard 
march  through  the  sultry  midsummer  forest.  His  men 
had  now  rested  for  a  night,  and  at  ten  in  the  morning 
he  marched  again.  Montcalm  followed  at  noon,  and 
coasted  the  western  shore,  till,  towards  evening,  he  found 
LeVis  waiting  for  him  by  the  margin  of  a  small  bay  not 
far  from  the  English  fort,  though  hidden  from  it  by  a 
projecting  point  of  land.  Canoes  and  bateaux  were 
drawn  up  on  the  beach,  and  the  united  forces  made 
their  bivouac  together. 

The  earthen  mounds  of  Fort  William  Henry  still 
stand  by  the  brink  of  Lake  George ;  and  seated  at  the 
sunset  of  an  August  day  under  the  pines  that  cover 
them,  one  gazes  on  a  scene  of  soft  and  soothing  beauty, 
where  dreamy  waters  reflect  the  glories  of  the  moun 
tains  and  the  sky.  As  it  is  to-day,  so  it  was  then ;  all 
breathed  repose  and  peace.  The  splash  of  some  leaping 
trout,  or  the  dipping  wing  of  a  passing  swallow,  alone 
disturbed  the  summer  calm  of  that  unruffled  mirror. 

About  ten  o'clock  at  night  two  boats  set  out  from  the 
fort  to  reconnoitre.  They  were  passing  a  point  of  land 
on  their  left,  two  miles  or  more  down  the  lake,  when 
the  men  on  board  descried  through  the  gloom  a  strange 
object  against  the  bank ;  and  they  rowed  towards  it  to 
learn  what  it  might  be.  It  was  an  awning  over  the  ba 
teau  that  carried  Roubaud  and  his  brother  missionaries. 
As  the  rash  oarsmen  drew  near,  the  bleating  of  a  sheep 
in  one  of  the  French  provision-boats  warned  them  of 
danger ;  and  turning,  they  pulled  for  their  lives  towards 
the  eastern  shore.  Instantly  more  than  a  thousand 


48     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

Indians  threw  themselves  into  their  canoes  and  dashed 
in  hot  pursuit,  making  the  lake  and  the  mountains  ring 
with  the  din  of  their  war-whoops.  The  fugitives  had 
nearly  reached  land  when  their  pursuers  opened  fire. 
They  replied ;  shot  one  Indian  dead,  and  wounded 
another ;  then  snatched  their  oars  again,  and  gained  the 
beach.  But  the  whole  savage  crew  was  upon  them. 
Several  were  killed,  three  were  taken,  and  the  rest  es 
caped  in  the  dark  woods.  The  prisoners  were  brought 
before  Montcalm,  and  gave  him  valuable  information  of 
the  strength  and  position  of  the  English.1 

The  Indian  who  was  killed  was  a  noted  chief  of  the 
Nipissings  ;  and  his  tribesmen  howled  in  grief  for  their 
bereavement.  They  painted  his  face  with  vermilion,  tied 
feathers  in  his  hair,  hung  pendants  in  his  ears  and  nose, 
clad  him  in  a  resplendent  war-dress,  put  silver  bracelets 
on  his  arms,  hung  a  gorget  on  his  breast  with  a  flame- 
colored  ribbon,  and  seated  him  in  state  on  the  top  of  a 
hillock,  with  his  lance  in  his  hand,  his  gun  in  the  hollow 
of  his  arm,  his  tomahawk  in  his  belt,  and  his  kettle  by 
his  side.  Then  they  all  crouched  about  him  in  lugubri 
ous  silence.  A  funeral  harangue  followed ;  and  next  a 
song  and  solemn  dance  to  the  thumping  of  the  Indian 
drum.  In  the  gray  of  the  morning  they  buried  him  as 
he  sat,  and  placed  food  in  the  grave  for  his  journey  to 
the  land  of  souls. 

As  the  sun  rose  above  the  eastern  mountains  the 
French  camp  was  all  astir.  The  column  of  LeVis,  with 
Indians  to  lead  the  way,  moved  through  the  forest 
towards  the  fort,  and  Montcalm  followed  with  the  main 

1  The  remains  of  Fort  William  Henry  are  now  crowded  between  a 
hotel  and  the  wharf  and  station  of  a  railway.  A  scheme  has  been  set 
on  foot  to  level  the  whole  for  other  railway  structures.  When  I  first 
knew  the  place  the  ground  was  in  much  the  same  state  as  in  the  time  of 
Montcalm. 


hui  '••I Section  through;  A.B . 


mm 


SnUe.  to  tke.ProJile 


SIEGE    OF    FOKT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  49 

body  ;  then  the  artillery  boats  rounded  the  point  that 
had  hid  them  from  the  sight  of  the  English,  saluting 
them  as  they  did  so  with  musketry  and  cannon ;  while 
a  host  of  savages  put  out  upon  the  lake,  ranged  their 
canoes  abreast  in  a  line  from  shore  to  shore,  and  ad 
vanced  slowly,  with  measured  paddle-strokes  and  yells 
of  defiance. 

The  position  of  the  enemy  was  full  in  sight  before 
them.  At  the  head  of  the  lake,  towards  the  right,  stood 
the  fort,  close  to  the  edge  of  the  water.  On  its  left  was 
a  marsh  ;  then  the  rough  piece  of  ground  where  Johnson 
had  encamped  two  years  before ;  then  a  low,  flat,  rocky 
hill,  crowned  with  an  intrenched  camp ;  and,  lastly,  on 
the  extreme  left,  another  marsh.  Far  around  the  fort 
and  up  the  slopes  of  the  western  mountain  the  forest  had 
been  cut  down  and  burned,  and  the  ground  was  cumbered 
with  blackened  stumps  and  charred  carcasses  and  limbs 
of  fallen  trees,  strewn  in  savage  disorder  one  upon 
another.  Distant  shouts  and  war-cries,  the  clatter  of 
musketry,  white  puffs  of  smoke  in  the  dismal  clearing 
and  along  the  scorched  edge  of  the  bordering  forest,  told 
that  Levis'  Indians  were  skirmishing  with  parties  of  the 
English,  who  had  gone  out  to  save  the  cattle  roaming  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  burn  some  out-buildings  that 
would  have  favored  the  besiegers.  Others  were  taking 
down  the  tents  that  stood  on  a  plateau  near  the  foot  of 
the  mountain  on  the  right,  and  moving  them  to  the 
intrenchment  on  the  hill.  The  garrison  sallied  from 
the  fort  to  support  their  comrades,  and  for  a  time  the 
firing  was  hot. 

Fort  William  Henry  was  an  irregular  bastioned  square, 
formed  by  embankments  of  gravel  surmounted  by  a 
rampart  of  heavy  logs,  laid  in  tiers  crossed  one  upon 
another,  the  interstices  filled  with  earth.  The  lake  pro- 

4 


50  LAKE    GEO11GE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

tccted  it  on  the  north,  the  marsh  on  the  east,  and  ditches 
with  chevaux-de-frise  on  the  south  and  west.  Seventeen 
cannon,  great  and  small,  besides  several  mortars  and 
swivels,  were  mounted  upon  it ;  and  a  brave  Scotch 
veteran,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Monro,  of  the  thirty-fifth 
regiment,  was  in  command. 

General  Webb  lay  fourteen  miles  distant  at  Fort  Ed 
ward,  with  twenty-six  hundred  men,  chiefly  provincials. 
On  the  twenty-fifth  of  July  he  had  made  a  visit  to  Fort 
William  Henry,  examined  the  place,  given  some  orders, 
and  returned  on  the  twenty-ninth.  He  then  wrote  to 
the  Governor  of  Xcw  York,  telling  him  that  the  French 
were  certainly  coming,  begging  him  to  send  up  the 
militia,  and  saying :  "  I  am  determined  to  march  to  Fort 
William  Henry  with  the  whole  army  under  my  command 
as  soon  as  1  shall  hear  of  the  farther  approach  of  the 
enemy."  Instead  of  doing  so  he  waited  three  days,  and 
then  sent  up  a  detachment  of  two  hundred  regulars 
under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Young,  and  eight  hundred 
Massachusetts  men  under  Colonel  Frye.  This  raised 
the  force  at  the  lake  to  two  thousand  and  two  hundred, 
including  sailors  and  mechanics,  and  reduced  that  of 
Webb  to  sixteen  hundred,  besides  half  as  many  more 
distributed  at  Albany  and  the  intervening  forts.  If, 
according  to  his  spirited  intention,  he  should  go  to  the 
rescue  of  Monro,  lie  must  leave  some  of  his  troops  behind 
him  to  protect  the  lower  posts  from  a  possible  French 
inroad  by  way  of  South  Bay.  Thus  his  power  of  aiding 
Monro  was  slight,  so  rashly  had  Loudon,  intent  on 
Louisbourg,  left  this  frontier  open  to  attack.  The  defect, 
however,  was  as  much  in  Webb  himself  as  in  his  re 
sources.  His  conduct  in  the  past  year  had  raised  doubts 
of  his  personal  courage ;  and  this  was  the  moment  for 
answering  them.  Great  as  was  the  disparity  of  numbers, 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  51 

the  emergency  would  have  justified  an  attempt  to  save 
Monro  at  any  risk.  That  officer  sent  him  a  hasty  note, 
written  at  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  third, 
telling  him  that  the  French  were  in  sight  on  the  lake ; 
and,  in  the  next  night,  three  rangers  came  to  Fort 
Edward,  bringing  another  short  note,  dated  at  six  in  the 
evening,  announcing  that  the  firing  had  begun,  and  clos 
ing  with  the  words  :  u  I  believe  you  will  think  it  proper 
to  send  a  reinforcement  as  soon  as  possible."  Now,  if 
ever,  was  the  time  to  move,  before  the  fort  was  invested 
and  access  cut  oft'.  But  Webb  lay  quiet,  sending  ex 
presses  to  New  England  for  help  which  could  not  possibly 
arrive  in  time.  On  the  next  night  another  note  came 
from  Monro  to  say  that  the  French  were  upon  him  in 
great  numbers,  well  supplied  with  artillery,  but  that  the 
garrison  were  all  in  good  spirits.  "  I  make  no  doubt," 
wrote  the  hard-pressed  officer,  "  that  you  will  soon  send 
us  a  reinforcement ;  "  and  again  on  the  same  day  :  "  We 
are  very  certain  that  a  part  of  the  enemy  have  got  be 
tween  you  and  us  upon  the  high  road,  and  would  there 
fore  be  glad  (if  it  meets  with  your  approbation)  the 
whole  army  was  marched."  But  Webb  gave  no  sign. 

When  the  skirmishing  around  the  fort  was  over,  La 
Corne,  with  a  body  of  Indians,  occupied  the  road  that 
led  to  Fort  Edward,  and  Levis  encamped  hard  by  to 
support  him,  while  Montcalm  proceeded  to  examine  the 
ground  and  settle  his  plan  of  attack.  He  made  his  way 
to  the  rear  of  the  intrenched  camp  and  reconnoitred  it, 
hoping  to  carry  it  by  assault ;  but  it  had  a  breastwork 
of  stones  and  logs,  and  he  thought  the  attempt  too  haz 
ardous.  The  ground  where  he  stood  was  that  where 
Dieskau  had  been  defeated ;  and  as  the  fate  of  his  pre 
decessor  was  not  of  flattering  augury,  he  resolved  to 
besiege  the  fort  in  form. 


52    LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLA1N. 

He  chose  for  the  site  of  his  operations  the  ground 
now  covered  by  the  village  of  Caldwell.  A  little  to  the 
north  of  it  was  a  ravine,  beyond  which  he  formed  his 
main  camp,  while  LeVis  occupied  a  tract  of  dry  ground 
beside  the  marsh,  whence  he  could  easily  move  to  inter 
cept  succors  from  Fort  Edward  on  the  one  hand,  or  repel 
a  sortie  from  Fort  William  Henry  on  the  other.  A  brook 
ran  down  the  ravine  and  entered  the  lake  at  a  small 
cove  protected  from  the  fire  of  the  fort  by  a  point  of 
land;  and  at  this  place,  still  called  Artillery  Cove, 
Montcalm  prepared  to  debark  his  cannon  and  mortars. 

Having  made  his  preparations,  he  sent  Fontbrune,  one 
of  his  aides-de-camp,  with  a  letter  to  Monro.  "  I  owe  it 
to  humanity,"  he  wrote,  "  to  summon  you  to  surrender. 
At  present  I  can  restrain  the  savages,  and  make  them 
observe  the  terms  of  a  capitulation,  as  I  might  not  have 
power  to  do  under  other  circumstances  ;  and  an  obstinate 
defence  on  your  part  could  only  retard  the  capture  of  the 
place  a  few  days,  and  endanger  an  unfortunate  garrison 
which  cannot  be  relieved,  in  consequence  of  the  disposi 
tions  1  have  made.  I  demand  a  decisive  answer  within 
an  hour."  Monro  replied  that  he  and  his  soldiers  would 
defend  themselves  to  the  last.  While  the  flags  of  truce 
were  flying,  the  Indians  swarmed  over  the  fields  before 
the  fort ;  and  when  they  learned  the  result,  an  Abenaki 
chief  shouted  in  broken  French  :  "  You  won't  surrender, 
eh  !  Fire  away  then,  and  fight  your  best ;  for  if  I  catch 
you,  you  shall  get  no  quarter."  Monro  emphasized  his 
refusal  by  a  general  discharge  of  his  cannon. 

The  trenches  were  opened  on  the  night  of  the  fourth, 
— a  task  of  extreme  difficulty,  as  the  ground  was  covered 
by  a  profusion  of  half-burned  stumps,  roots,  branches, 
and  fallen  trunks.  Eight  hundred  men  toiled  till  day 
light  with  pick,  spade,  and  axe,  while  the  cannon  from 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  53 

the  fort  flashed  through  the  darkness,  and  grape  and 
round-shot  whistled  and  screamed  over  their  heads. 
Some  of  the  English  balls  reached  the  camp  beyond  the 
ravine,  and  disturbed  the  slumbers  of  the  officers  off 
duty,  as  they  lay  wrapped  in  their  blankets  and  bear 
skins.  Before  daybreak  the  lirst  parallel  was  made ;  a 
battery  was  nearly  finished  on  the  left,  and  another  was 
begun  on  the  right.  The  men  now  worked  under  cover, 
safe  in  their  burrows ;  one  gang  relieved  another,  and 
the  work  went  011  all  day. 

The  Indians  were  far  from  doing  what  was  expected 
of  them.  Instead  of  scouting  in  the  direction  of  Fort 
Edward  to  learn  the  movements  of  the  enemy  and  pre 
vent  surprise,  they  loitered  about  the  camp  and  in  the 
trenches,  or  amused  themselves  by  firing  at  the  fort 
from  behind  stumps  and  logs.  Some,  in  imitation  of 
the  French,  dug  little  trenches  for  themselves,  in  which 
they  wormed  their  way  towards  the  rampart,  and  now 
and  then  picked  off  an  artillery-man,  not  without  loss  on 
their  own  side.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  fifth,  Montcalm 
invited  them  to  a  council,  gave  them  belts  of  wampum, 
and  mildly  remonstrated  with  them.  "  Why  expose 
yourselves  without  necessity  ?  I  grieve  bitterly  over  the 
losses  that  you  have  met,  for  the  least  among  you  is 
precious  to  me.  No  doubt  it  is  a  good  thing  to  annoy 
the  English  ;  but  that  is  not  the  main  point.  You  ought 
to  inform  me  of  everything  the  enemy  is  doing,  and 
always  keep  parties  on  the  road  between  the  two  forts." 
And  he  gently  hinted  that  their  place  was  not  in  his 
camp,  but  in  that  of  Lie* vis,  where  missionaries  were 
provided  for  such  of  them  as  were  Christians,  and  food 
and  ammunition  for  them  all.  They  promised,  with 
excellent  docility,  to  do  everything  he  wished,  but 
added  that  there  was  something  on  their  hearts.  Being 


54     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

encouraged  to  relieve  themselves  of  the  burden,  they 
complained  that  they  had  not  been  consulted  as  to  the 
management  of  the  siege,  but  were  expected  to  obey 
orders  like  slaves.  "  We  know  more  about  fighting  in 
the  woods  than  you,"  said  their  orator  ;  "  ask  our  advice, 
and  you  will  be  the  better  for  it." 

Montcalm  assured  them  that  if  they  had  been  neg 
lected,  it  was  only  through  the  hurry  and  confusion  of 
the  time ;  expressed  high  appreciation  of  their  talents 
for  bush-lighting,  promised  them  ample  satisfaction,  and 
ended  by  telling  them  that  in  the  morning  they  should 
hear  the  big  guns.  This  greatly  pleased  them,  for  they 
were  extremely  impatient  for  the  artillery  to  begin. 
About  sunrise  the  battery  of  the  left  opened  with  eight 
heavy  cannon  and  a  mortar,  joined,  on  the  next  morn 
ing,  by  the  battery  of  the  right,  with  eleven  pieces 
more.  The  fort  replied  with  spirit.  The  cannon  thun 
dered  all  day,  and  from  a  hundred  peaks  and  crags  the 
astonished  wilderness  roared  back  the  sound.  The  Ind 
ians  were  delighted.  They  wanted  to  point  the  guns ; 
and  to  humor  them,  they  were  now  and  then  allowed 
to  do  so.  Others  lay  behind  logs  and  fallen  trees,  and 
yelled  their  satisfaction  when  they  saw  the  splinters 
fly  from  the  wooden  rampart. 

Day  after  day  the  weary  roar  of  the  distant  cannonade 
fell  on  the  ears  of  Webb  in  his  camp  at  Fort  Edward. 
"  I  have  not  yet  received  the  least  reinforcement,"  ho 
writes  to  London ;  "  this  is  the  disagreeable  situation  we 
are  at  present  in.  The  fort,  by  the  heavy  firing  we  hear 
from  the  lake,  is  still  in  our  possession ;  but  I  fear  it 
cannot  long  hold  out  against  so  warm  a  cannonading 
if  I  am  not  reinforced  by  a  sufficient  number  of  militia 
to  march  to  their  relief."  The  militia  were  coming ; 
but  it  was  impossible  that  many  could  reach  him  in  less 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  55 

than  a  week.  Those  from  New  York  alone  were  within 
call,  and  two  thousand  of  them  arrived  soon  after  he 
sent  Loudon  the  above  letter.  Then,  by  stripping  all 
the  forts  below,  he  could  bring  together  forty-five  hun 
dred  men ;  while  several  French  deserters  assured  him 
that  Montcalm  had  nearly  twelve  thousand.  To  advance 
to  the  relief  of  Monro  with  a  force  so  inferior,  through 
a  defile  of  rocks,  forests,  and  mountains,  made  by  nature 
for  ambuscades,  —  and  this  too  with  troops  who  had 
neither  the  steadiness  of  regulars  nor  the  bush-fighting 
skill  of  Indians,  —  was  an  enterprise  for  firmer  nerve 
than  his. 

He  had  already  warned  Monro  to  expect  no  help  from 
him.  At  midnight  of  the  fourth,  Captain  Bartman,  his 
aide-de-camp,  wrote :  "  The  General  has  ordered  me  to 
acquaint  you  he  does  not  think  it  prudent  to  attempt  a 
junction  or  to  assist  you  till  reinforced  by  the  militia 
of  the  colonies,  for  the  immediate  march  of  which  re 
peated  expresses  have  been  sent."  The  letter  then 
declared  that  the  French  were  in  complete  possession 
of  the  road  between  the  two  forts,  that  a  prisoner  just 
brought  in  reported  their  force  in  men  and  cannon  to 
be  very  great,  and  that,  unless  the  militia  came  soon, 
Monro  had  better  make  what  terms  he  could  with  the 
enemy. 

The  chance  was  small  that  this  letter  would  reach  its 
destination;  and  in  fact  the  bearer  was  killed  by  La 
Corne's  Indians,  who,  in  stripping  the  body,  found  the 
hidden  paper,  and  carried  it  to  the  General.  Montcalm 
kept  it  several  days,  till  the  English  rampart  was  half 
battered  down  ;  and  then,  after  saluting  his  enemy  with 
a  volley  from  all  his  cannon,  he  sent  it  with  a  graceful 
compliment  to  Monro.  It  was  Bougainville  who  carried 
it,  preceded  by  a  drummer  and  a  flag.  He  was  met  at 


56  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

the  foot  of  the  glacis,  blindfolded,  and  led  through  the 
fort  and  along  the  edge  of  the  lake  to  the  intrenched 
camp,  where  Monro  was  at  the  time.  "  He  returned 
many  thanks,"  writes  the  emissary  in  his  Diary,  "for 
the  courtesy  of  our  nation,  and  protested  his  joy  at 
having  to  do  with  so  generous  an  enemy.  This  was 
his  answer  to  the  Marquis  de  Montcalm.  Then  they  led 
me  back,  alwa}  s  with  eyes  blinded ;  and  our  batteries 
began  to  fire  again  as  soon  as  we  thought  that  the  Eng 
lish  grenadiers  who  escorted  me  had  had  time  to  re-enter 
the  fort.  I  hope  General  Webb's  letter  may  induce  the 
English  to  surrender  the  sooner." 

By  this  time  the  sappers  had  worked  their  way  to  the 
angle  of  the  lake,  where  they  were  stopped  by  a  marshy 
hollow,  beyond  which  was  a  tract  of  high  ground,  reach 
ing  to  the  fort  and  serving  as  the  garden  of  the  garrison.1 
Logs  and  fascines  in  large  quantities  were  thrown  into 
the  hollow,  and  hurdles  Avere  laid  over  them  to  form  a 
causeway  for  the  cannon.  Then  the  sap  was  continued 
up  the  acclivity  beyond,  a  trench  was  opened  in  the 
garden,  and  a  battery  begun,  not  two  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  from  the  fort.  The  Indians,  in  great  number, 
crawled  forward  among  the  beans,  maize,  and  cabbages, 
and  lay  there  ensconced.  On  the  night  of  the  seventh, 
two  men  came  out  of  the  fort,  apparently  to  reconnoitre, 
with  a  view  to  a  sortie,  when  they  were  greeted  by  a 
general  volley  and  a  burst  of  yells  which  echoed  among 
the  mountains  ;  followed  by  responsive  whoops  pealing 
through  the  darkness  from  the  various  camps  and  lurk 
ing-places  of  the  savage  warriors  far  and  near. 

The  position  of  the  besieged  was  now  deplorable. 
More  than  three  hundred  of  them  had  been  killed  and 

1  Now  the  site  of  Fort  William  Henry  Hotel,  with  its  grounds.     The 
hollow  is  partly  filled  by  the  main  road  of  Caldwell. 


SIEGE    OF    FOKT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  57 

wounded ;  small-pox  was  raging  in  the  fort ;  the  place 
was  a  focus  of  infection,  and  the  casemates  were  crowded 
with  the  sick.  A  sortie  from  the  intrenched  camp  and 
another  from  the  fort  had  been  repulsed  with  loss.  All 
their  large  cannon  and  mortars  had  been  burst,  or  dis 
abled  by  shot ;  only  seven  small  pieces  were  left  fit  for 
service ;  and  the  whole  of  Montcalm's  thirty-one  cannon 
and  fifteen  mortars  and  howitzers  would  soon  open  fire, 
while  the  walls  were  already  breached,  and  an  assault 
was  imminent.  Through  the  night  of  the  eighth  they 
fired  briskly  from  all  their  remaining  pieces.  In  the 
morning  the  officers  held  a  council,  and  all  agreed  to 
surrender  if  honorable  terms  could  be  had.  A  white 
flag  was  raised,  a  drum  was  beat,  and  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Young,  mounted  on  horseback,  —  for  a  shot  in  the  foot 
had  disabled  him  from  walking,  —  went,  followed  by  a 
few  soldiers,  to  the  tent  of  Montcalm. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  English  troops  should  march 
out  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  be  escorted  to  Fort 
Edward  by  a  detachment  of  French  troops ;  that  they 
should  not  serve  for  eighteen  months ;  and  that  all 
French  prisoners  captured  in  America  since  the  war 
began  should  be  given  up  within  three  months.  The 
stores,  munitions,  and  artillery  were  to  be  the  prize  of 
the  victors,  except  one  field-piece,  which  the  garrison 
were  to  retain  in  recognition  of  their  brave  defence. 

Before  signing  the  capitulation  Montcalm  called  the 
Indian  chiefs  to  council,  and  asked  them  to  consent  to 
the  conditions,  and  promise  to  restrain  their  young 
warriors  from  any  disorder.  They  approved  everything 
and  promised  everything.  The  garrison  then  evacuated 
the  fort,  and  marched  to  join  their  comrades  in  the 
intrenched  camp,  which  was  included  in  the  surren 
der.  No  sooner  were  they  gone  than  a  crowd  of  Indians 


58    LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

clambered  through  the  embrasures  in  search  of  rum 
and  plunder.  All  the  sick  men  unable  to  leave  their 
beds  were  instantly  butchered.  "  1  was  witness  of  this 
spectacle,"  says  the  missionary  Roubaud ;  "  I  saw  one 
of  these  barbarians  come  out  of  the  casemates  with  a 
human  head  in  his  hand,  from  which  the  blood  ran  in 
streams,  and  which  he  paraded  as  if  he  had  got  the 
finest  prize  in  the  world."  There  was  little  left  to 
plunder ;  and  the  Indians,  joined  by  the  more  lawless  of 
the  Canadians,  turned  their  attention  to  the  intrenched 
camp,  where  all  the  English  were  now  collected. 

The  French  guard  stationed  there  could  not  or  would 
not  keep  out  the  rabble.  By  the  advice  of  Montcalm 
the  English  stove  their  rum-barrels ;  but  the  Indians 
were  drunk  already  with  homicidal  rage,  and  the  glitter 
of  their  vicious  eyes  told  of  the  devil  within.  They 
roamed  among  the  tents,  intrusive,  insolent,  their  vis 
ages  besmirched  with  war-paint ;  grinning  like  fiends  as 
they  handled,  in  anticipation  of  the  knife,  the  long  hair 
of  cowering  women,  of  whom,  as  well  as  of  children, 
there  were  many  in  the  camp,  all  crazed  with  fright. 
Since  the  last  \var  the  New  England  border  population 
had  regarded  Indians  with  a  mixture  of  detestation  and 
horror.  Their  mysterious  warfare  of  ambush  and  sur 
prise,  their  midnight  onslaughts,  their  butcheries,  their 
burnings,  and  all  their  nameless  atrocities,  had  been  for 
years  the  theme  of  fireside  story  ;  and  the  dread  they 
excited  was  deepened  by  the  distrust  and  dejection  of 
the  time.  The  confusion  in  the  camp  lasted  through  the 
afternoon.  "  The  Indians,"  says  Bougainville,  "  wanted 
to  plunder  the  chests  of  the  English  ;  the  latter  resisted; 
and  there  was  fear  that  serious  disorder  would  ensue. 
The  Marquis  de  Montcalm  ran  thither  immediately, 
and  used  every  means  to  restore  tranquillity :  prayers, 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM    HENRY.  59 

threats,  caresses,  interposition  of  the  officers  and  inter 
preters  who  have  some  influence  over  these  savages." 
"  We  shall  be  but  too  happy  if  we  can  prevent  a  mas 
sacre.  Detestable  position  !  of  which  nobody  who  has 
not  been  in  it  can  have  any  idea,  and  which  makes 
victory  itself  a  sorrow  to  the  victors.  The  Marquis 
spared  no  efforts  to  prevent  the  rapacity  of  the  savages 
and,  I  must  say  it,  of  certain  persons  associated  with 
them,  from  resulting  in  something  worse  than  plunder. 
At  last,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  order  seemed 
restored.  The  Marquis  even  induced  the  Indians  to 
promise  that,  besides  the  escort  agreed  upon  in  the 
capitulation,  two  chiefs  for  each  tribe  should  accom 
pany  the  English  on  their  way  to  Fort  Edward."  He 
also  ordered  La  Come  and  the  other  Canadian  officers 
attached  to  the  Indians  to  see  that  no  violence  took 
place.  He  might  well  have  done  more.  In  view  of  the 
disorders  of  the  afternoon,  it  would  not  have  been  too 
much  if  he  had  ordered  the  whole  body  of  regular  troops, 
whom  alone  he  could  trust  for  the  purpose,  to  hold 
themselves  ready  to  move  to  the  spot  in  case  of  out 
break,  and  shelter  their  defeated  foes  behind  a  hedge  of 
bayonets. 

Bougainville  was  not  to  see  what  ensued  ;  for  Montcalm 
now  sent  him  to  Montreal,  as  a  special  messenger  to 
carry  news  of  the  victory.  He  embarked  at  ten  o'clock. 
Returning  daylight  found  him  far  down  the  lake ;  and 
as  he  looked  on  its  still  bosom  flecked  with  mists,  and 
its  quiet  mountains  sleeping  under  the  flush  of  dawn, 
there  was  nothing  in  the  wild  tranquillity  of  the  scene 
to  suggest  the  tragedy  which  even  then  was  beginning 
on  the  shore  he  had  left  behind. 

The  English  in  their  camp  had  passed  a  troubled 
night,  agitated  by  strange  rumors.  In  the  morning 


60          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

something  like  a  panic  seized  them ;  for  they  distrusted 
not  the  Indians  only,  but  the  Canadians.  In  their 
haste  to  be  gone  they  got  together  at  daybreak,  be 
fore  the  escort  of  three  hundred  regulars  had  arrived. 
They  had  their  muskets,  but  no  ammunition  ;  and  few 
or  none  of  the  provincials  had  bayonets.  Early  as  it 
was,  the  Indians  were  on  the  alert ;  and,  indeed,  since 
midnight  great  numbers  of  them  had  been  prowling 
about  the  skirts  of  the  camp,  showing,  says  Colonel 
Frye,  "  more  than  usual  malice  in  their  looks."  Seven 
teen  wounded  men  of  his  regiment  lay  in  huts,  unable 
to  join  the  march.  In  the  preceding  afternoon  Miles 
Whitworth,  the  regimental  surgeon,  had  passed  them 
over  to  the  care  of  a  French  surgeon,  according  to  an 
agreement  made  at  the  time  of  the  surrender  ;  but,  the 
Frenchman  being  absent,  the  other  remained  with  them 
attending  to  their  wants.  The  French  surgeon  had 
caused  special  sentinels  to  be  posted  for  their  protection. 
These  were  now  removed,  at  the  moment  when  they 
were  needed  most ;  upon  which,  about  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  the  Indians  entered  the  huts,  dragged  out  the 
inmates,  and  tomahawked  and  scalped  them  all,  before 
the  eyes  of  Whitworth,  and  in  presence  of  La  Corne 
and  other  Canadian  officers,  as  well  as  of  a  French  guard 
stationed  within  forty  feet  of  the  spot ;  and,  declares  the 
surgeon  under  oath,  "  none,  either  officer  or  soldier,  pro 
tected  the  said  wounded  men."  The  opportune  butchery 
relieved  them  of  a  troublesome  burden. 

A  scene  of  plundering  now  began.  The  escort  had  by 
this  time  arrived,  and  Monro  complained  to  the  officers 
that  the  capitulation  was  broken ;  but  got  no  other  an 
swer  than  advice  to  give  up  the  baggage  to  the  Indians 
in  order  to  appease  them.  To  this  the  English  at  length 
agreed ;  but  it  only  increased  the  excitement  of  the  mob. 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM   HENRY.  61 

They  demanded  rum ;  and  some  of  the  soldiers,  afraid  to 
refuse,  gave  it  to  them  from  their  canteens,  thus  adding 
fuel  to  the  flame.  When,  after  much  difficulty,  the  col 
umn  at  last  got  out  of  the  camp  and  began  to  move  along 
the  road  that  crossed  the  rough  plain  between  the  in- 
trenchment  and  the  forest,  the  Indians  crowded  upon 
them,  impeded  their  inarch,  snatched  caps,  coats,  and 
weapons  from  men  and  officers,  tomahawked  those  that 
resisted,  and  seizing  upon  shrieking  women  and  children, 
dragged  them  off  or  murdered  them  on  the  spot.  It  is 
said  that  some  of  the  interpreters  secretly  fomented  the 
disorder.  Suddenly  there  rose  the  screech  of  the  war- 
whoop.  At  this  signal  of  butchery,  which  was  given  by 
Abenaki  Christians  from  the  mission  of  the  Penobscot,  a 
mob  of  savages  rushed  upon  the  New  Hampshire  men  at 
the  rear  of  the  column,  and  killed  or  dragged  away  eighty 
of  them.  A  frightful  tumult  ensued,  when  Montcalm, 
Levis,  Bourlamaque,  and  many  other  French  officers,  who 
had  hastened  from  their  camp  on  the  first  news  of  dis 
turbance,  threw  themselves  among  the  Indians,  and  by 
promises  and  threats  tried  to  allay  their  frenzy.  "  Kill 
me,  but  spare  the  English  who  are  under  my  protection," 
exclaimed  Montcalm.  He  took  from  one  of  them  a  young 
officer  whom  the  savage  had  seized  ;  upon  which  several 
other  Indians  immediately  tomahawked  their  prisoners, 
lest  they  too  should  be  taken  from  them.  One  writer 
says  that  a  French  grenadier  was  killed  and  two  wounded 
in  attempting  to  restore  order ;  but  the  statement  is  doubt 
ful.  The  English  seemed  paralyzed,  and  fortunately  did 
not  attempt  a  resistance,  which,  without  ammunition  as 
they  were,  would  have  ended  in  a  general  massacre. 
Their  broken  column  struggled  forward  in  wild  disorder, 
amid  the  din  of  whoops  and  shrieks,  till  they  reached 
the  French  advance-guard,  which  consisted  of  Canadians ; 


62     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

and  here  they  demanded  protection  from  the  officers, 
who  refused  to  give  it,  telling  them  that  the)-  must 
take  to  the  woods  and  shift  for  themselves.  Frye  was 
seized  by  a  number  of  Indians,  who,  brandishing  spears 
and  tomahawks,  threatened  him  with  death  and  tore  off 
his  clothing,  leaving  nothing  but  breeches,  shoes,  and 
shirt.  Repelled  by  the  officers  of  the  guard,  he  made 
for  the  woods.  A  Connecticut  soldier  who  was  present 
says  of  him  that  he  leaped  upon  an  Indian  who  stood  in 
his  Avay,  disarmed  and  killed  him,  and  then  escaped  ; 
but  Frye  himself  does  not  mention  the  incident.  Cap 
tain  Burke,  also  of  the  Massachusetts  regiment,  was 
stripped,  after  a  violent  struggle,  of  all  his  clothes ;  then 
broke  loose,  gained  the  woods,  spent  the  night  shivering 
in  the  thick  grass  of  a  marsh,  and  on  the  next  day 
reached  Fort  Edward.  Jonathan  Carver,  a  provincial 
volunteer,  declares  that,  when  the  tumult  was  at  its 
height,  he  saw  officers  of  the  French  army  walking  about 
at  a  little  distance  and  talking  with  seeming  unconcern. 
Three  or  four  Indians  seized  him,  brandished  their  toma 
hawks  over  his  head,  and  tore  off  most  of  his  clothes, 
while  he  vainly  claimed  protection  from  a  sentinel,  who 
called  him  an  English  dog,  and  violently  pushed  him 
back  among  his  tormentors.  Two  of  them  were  drag 
ging  him  towards  the  neighboring  swamp,  when  an 
English  officer,  stripped  of  everything  but  his  scarlet 
breeches,  ran  by.  One  of  Carver's  captors  sprang  upon 
him,  but  was  thrown  to  the  ground  ;  whereupon  the 
other  went  to  the  aid  of  his  comrade  and  drove  his 
tomahawk  into  the  back  of  the  Englishman.  As  Carver 
turned  to  run,  an  English  boy,  about  twelve  years  old, 
clung  to  him  and  begged  for  help.  They  ran  on  together 
for  a  moment,  when  the  boy  was  seized,  dragged  from 
his  protector,  and,  as  Carver  judged  by  his  shrieks,  was 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    WILLIAM    HEXRY.  63 

murdered.  He  himself  escaped  to  the  forest,  and  after 
three  days  of  famine  reached  Fort  Edward. 

The  bonds  of  discipline  seem  for  the  time  to  have 
been  completely  broken; 'for  while  Montcalm  and  his 
chief  officers  used  every  effort  to  restore  order,  even  at 
the  risk  of  their  lives,  many  other  officers,  chiefly  of  the 
militia,  failed  atrociously  to  do  their  duty.  How  many 
English  were  killed  it  is  impossible  to  tell  with  exact 
ness.  Roubaud  says  that  he  saw  forty  or  fifty  corpses 
scattered  about  the  field.  Levis  says  fifty ;  which  does 
not  include  the  sick  and  wounded  before  murdered  in  the 
camp  and  fort.  It  is  certain  that  six  or  seven  hundred 
persons  were  carried  off,  stripped,  and  otherwise  mal 
treated.  Montcalm  succeeded  in  recovering  more  than 
four  hundred  of  them  in  the  course  of  the  day;  and 
many  of  the  French  officers  did  what  they  could  to  re 
lieve  their  wants  by  buying  back  from  their  captors  the 
clothing  that  had  been  torn  from  them.  Many  of  the 
fugitives  had  taken  refuge  in  the  fort,  whither  Monro 
himself  had  gone  to  demand  protection  for  his  followers ; 
and  here  Roubaud  presently  found  a  crowd  of  half- 
frenzied  women,  crying  in  anguish  for  husbands  and 
children.  All  the  refugees  and  redeemed  prisoners  were 
afterwards  conducted  to  the  intrenched  camp,  where 
food  and  shelter  were  provided  for  them,  and  a  strong 
guard  set  for  their  protection  until  the  fifteenth,  when 
they  were  sent  under  an  escort  to  Fort  Edward.  Here 
cannon  had  been  fired  at  intervals  to  guide  those  who 
had  fled  to  the  woods,  whence  they  came  dropping  in 
from  day  to  day,  half  dead  with  famine. 

On  the  morning  after  the  massacre  the  Indians  de 
camped  in  a  body  and  set  out  for  Montreal,  carrying 
with  them  their  plunder  and  some  two  hundred  pris 
oners,  who,  it  is  said,  could  not  be  got  out  of  their  hands. 


64          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

The  soldiers  were  set  to  the  work  of  demolishing  the 
English  fort ;  and  the  task  occupied  several  days.  The 
barracks  were  torn  down,  and  the  huge  pine-logs  of 
the  rampart  thrown  into  a  heap.  The  dead  bodies  that 
filled  the  casemates  were  added  to  the  mass,  and  fire 
was  set  to  the  whole.  The  mighty  funeral  pyre  blazed 
all  night.  Then,  on  the  sixteenth,  the  army  reimbarked. 
The  din  of  ten  thousand  combatants,  the  rage,  the  terror, 
the  agony,  were  gone ;  and  no  living  thing  was  left  but 
the  wolves  that  gathered  from  the  mountains  to  feast 
upon  the  dead. 


MONTCALM. 

AGED  29. 


BATTLE    OF   TICONDEROGA. 

IN  1758,  the  English  commanders,  incensed  at  the  loss 
of  Fort  William  Henry,  resolved  to  retaliate  by  a 
strong  effort  to  seize  Ticonderoga.  In  June,  the  com 
bined  British  and  provincial  force  destined  for  the 
expedition  was  gathered  at  the  head  of  Lake  George 
under  General  Abercromby,  while  the  Marquis  de  Mont- 
calm  lay  around  the  walls  of  the  French  stronghold  with 
an  army  not  one  fourth  so  numerous. 

Montcalm  hesitated  whether  he  should  not  fall  back 
to  Crown  Point.  It  was  but  a  choice  of  difficulties,  and 
he  stayed  at  Ticonderoga.  His  troops  were  disposed  as 
they  had  been  in  the  summer  before ;  one  battalion,  that 
of  Berry,  being  left  near  the  fort,  while  the  main  body, 
under  Montcalm  himself,  was  encamped  by  the  saw-mill 
at  the  Falls,  and  the  rest,  under  Bourlamaque,  occupied 
the  head  of  the  portage,  with  a  small  advanced  force  at 
the  landing-place  on  Lake  George.  It  remained  to  de 
termine  at  which  of  these  points  he  should  concentrate 
them  and  make  his  stand  against  the  English.  Ruin 
threatened  him  in  any  case  ;  each  position  had  its  fatal 
weakness  or  its  peculiar  danger,  and  his  best  hope  was 
in  the  ignorance  or  blundering  of  his  enemy.  He  seems 
to  have  been  several  days  in  a  state  of  indecision. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  fifth  of  July  the  partisan 
Langy,  who  had  gone  out  to  reconnoitre  towards  the 
head  of  Lake  George,  came  back  in  haste  with  the  report 

5 


G6     LAKE  GEOKGE  AND  LAKE  CHAMPLA1N. 

that  the  English  were  embarked  in  great  force.  Mont- 
calm  sent  a  canoe  down  Lake  Champlain  to  hasten  LeVis 
to  his  aid,  and  ordered  the  battalion  of  Berry  to  begin 
a  breastwork  and  abatis  on  the  high  ground  in  front  of 
the  fort.  That  they  were  not  begun  before  shows  that 
he  was  in  doubt  as  to  his  plan  of  defence  ;  and  that  his 
whole  army  was  not  now  set  to  work  at  them  shows  that 
his  doubt  was  still  unsolved. 

It  was  nearly  a  month  since  Abercromby  had  begun 
his  camp  at  the  head  of  Lake  George.  Here,  on  the 
ground  where  Johnson  had  beaten  Dieskau,  where 
Montcalm  had  planted  his  batteries,  and  Monro  vainly 
defended  the  wooden  ramparts  of  Fort  William  Henry, 
were  now  assembled  more  than  fifteen  thousand  men  ; 
and  the  shores,  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  the  broken 
plains  between  them  were  studded  thick  with  tents.  Of 
regulars  there  were  six  thousand  three  hundred  and 
sixty-seven,  officers  and  soldiers,  and  of  provincials  nine 
thousand  and  thirty-four.  To  the  New  England  levies, 
or  at  least  to  their  chaplains,  the  expedition  seemed 
a  crusade  against  the  abomination  of  Babylon  ;  and  they 
discoursed  in  their  sermons  of  Moses  sending  forth 
Joshua  against  Amalek.  Abercromby,  raised  to  his 
place  by  political  influence,  was  little  but  the  nominal 
commander.  "  A  heavy  man,"  said  Wolfe  in  a  letter 
to  his  father ;  "  an  aged  gentleman,  infirm  in  body  and 
mind,"  wrote  William  Parkman,  a  boy  of  seventeen, 
who  carried  a  musket  in  a  Massachusetts  regiment,  and 
kept  in  his  knapsack  a  dingy  little  note-book,  in  which 
he  jotted  down  what  passed  each  day.  The  age  of  the 
aged  gentleman  was  fifty-two. 

Pitt  meant  that  the  actual  command  of  the  army 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  Brigadier  Lord  Howe,  and  he 
was  in  fact  its  real  chief ;  "  the  noblest  Englishman  that 


BATTLE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  67 

has  appeared  in  my  time,  and  the  best  soldier  in  the 
British  army,"  says  Wolfe.  And  he  elsewhere  speaks 
of  him  as  "that  great  man."  Abercromby  testifies  to 
the  universal  respect  arid  love  with  which  officers  and 
men  regarded  him,  and  Pitt  calls  him  "  a  character  of 
ancient  times  ;  a  complete  model  of  military  virtue." 
High  as  this  praise  is,  it  seems  to  have  been  deserved. 
The  young  nobleman,  who  was  then  in  his  thirty-fourth 
year,  had  the  qualities  of  a  leader  of  men.  The  army 
felt  him,  from  general  to  drummer  boy.  He  was  its 
soul ;  and  while  breathing  into  it  his  own  energy  and 
ardor,  and  bracing  it  by  stringent  discipline,  he  broke 
through  the  traditions  of  the  service  and  gave  it  new 
shapes  to  suit  the  time  and  place.  During  the  past  year 
he  had  studied  the  art  of  forest  warfare,  and  joined 
Rogers  and  his  rangers  in  their  scouting-parties,  sharing 
all  their  hardships  and  making  himself  one  of  them. 
Perhaps  the  reforms  that  he  introduced  were  fruits  of 
this  rough  self-imposed  schooling.  He  made  officers 
and  men  throw  off  all  useless  incumbrances,  cut  their 
hair  close,  wear  leggings  to  protect  them  from  briers, 
brown  the  barrels  of  their  muskets,  and  carry  in  their 
knapsacks  thirty  pounds  of  meal,  which  they  cooked  for 
themselves  ;  so  that,  according  to  an  admiring  French 
man,  they  could  live  a  month  without  their  supply-trains. 
"  You  would  laugh  to  see  the  droll  figure  we  all  make," 
writes  an  officer.  "  Regulars  as  well  as  provincials  have 
cut  their  coats  so  as  scarcely  to  reach  their  waists.  No 
officer  or  private  is  allowed  to  carry  more  than  one 
blanket  and  a  bearskin.  A  small  portmanteau  is  allowed 
each  officer.  No  women  follow  the  camp  to  wash  our 
linen.  Lord  Howe  lias  already  shown  an  example  by 
going  to  the  brook  and  washing  his  own." 

Here,  as  in  all  things,  he  shared  the  lot  of  the  soldier, 


68          LAKE    GEORGE   AND    LAKE    CHAMPLA1N. 

and  required  his  officers  to  share  it.  A  story  is  told  of 
him  that  before  the  army  embarked  he  invited  some  of 
them  to  dinner  in  his  tent,  where  they  found  no  seats  but 
logs,  and  no  carpet  but  bearskins.  A  servant  presently 
placed  on  the  ground  a  large  dish  of  pork  and  peas,  on 
which  his  lordship  took  from  his  pocket  a  sheath  con 
taining  a  knife  and  fork  and  began  to  cut  the  meat. 
The  guests  looked  on  in  some  embarrassment;  upon 
which  he  said:  "  Is  it  possible,  gentlemen, that  you  have 
come  on  this  campaign  without  providing  yourselves 
with  what  is  necessary  ?  "  And  he  gave  each  of  them 
a  sheath,  with  a  knife  and  fork,  like  his  own. 

Yet  this  Lycurgus  of  the  camp,  as  a  contemporary 
calls  him,  is  described  as  a  man  of  social  accomplish 
ments  rare  even  in  his  rank.  He  made  himself  greatly 
beloved  by  the  provincial  officers,  with  many  of  whom 
he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy,  and  he  did  what  he  could 
to  break  down  the  barriers  between  the  colonial  soldiers 
and  the  British  regulars.  When  he  was  at  Albany, 
sharing  with  other  high  officers  the  kindly  hospitalities 
of  Mrs.  Schuyler,  he  so  won  the  heart  of  that  excellent 
matron  that  she  loved  him  like  a  son  ;  and,  though  not 
given  to  such  effusion,  embraced  him  with  tears  on  the 
morning  when  he  left  her  to  lead  his  division  to  the  lake. 
In  Westminster  Abbey  may  be  seen  the  tablet  on  which 
Massachusetts  pays  grateful  tribute  to  his  virtues,  and 
commemorates  "  the  affection  her  officers  and  soldiers 
bore  to  his  command." 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  of  July,  baggage,  stores, 
and  ammunition  were  all  on  board  the  boats,  and  the 
whole  army  embarked  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth.  The 
arrangements  were  perfect.  Each  corps  marched  with 
out  confusion  to  its  appointed  station  on  the  beach,  and 
the  sun  was  scarcely  above  the  ridge  of  French  Moun- 


BATTLE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  69 

tain  when  all  were  afloat.  A  spectator  watching  them 
from  the  shore  says  that  when  the  fleet  was  three  miles 
on  its  way,  the  surface  of  the  lake  at  that  distance  was 
completely  hidden  from  'sight.  There  were  nine  hun 
dred  bateaux,  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  whaleboats,  and 
a  large  number  of  heavy  flat  boats  carrying  the  artillery. 
The  whole  advanced  in  three  divisions,  the  regulars  in 
the  centre,  and  the  provincials  on  the  flanks.  Each 
corps  had  its  flags  and  its  music.  The  day  was  fair,  and 
men  and  officers  were  in  the  highest  spirits. 

Before  ten  o'clock  they  began  to  enter  the  Narrows ; 
and  the  boats  of  the  three  divisions  extended  themselves 
into  long  files  as  the  mountains  closed  on  either  hand 
upon  the  contracted  lake.  From  front  to  rear  the  line 
was  six  miles  long.  The  spectacle  was  superb :  the 
brightness  of  the  summer  day ;  the  romantic  beauty  of 
the  scenery ;  the  sheen  and  sparkle  of  those  crystal 
waters ;  the  countless  islets,  tufted  with  pine,  birch,  and 
fir ;  the  bordering  mountains,  with  their  green  summits 
and  sunny  crags ;  the  flash  of  oars  and  glitter  of  weap 
ons  ;  the  banners,  the  varied  uniforms,  and  the  notes  of 
bugle,  trumpet,  bagpipe,  and  drum,  answered  and  pro 
longed  by  a  hundred  woodland  echoes.  "  I  never  beheld 
so  delightful  a  prospect,"  wrote  a  wounded  officer  at 
Albany  a  fortnight  after. 

Rogers  with  the  rangers,  and  Gage  with  the  light 
infantry,  led  the  way  in  whaleboats,  followed  by  Brad- 
street  with  his  corps  of  boatmen,  armed  and  drilled  as 
soldiers.  Then  came  the  main  body.  The  central 
column  of  regulars  was  commanded  by  Lord  Howe,  his 
own  regiment,  the  fifty-fifth,  in  the  van,  followed  by  the 
Royal  Americans,  the  twenty-seventh,  forty-fourth,  forty- 
sixth,  and  eightieth  infantry,  and  the  Highlanders  of  the 
forty-second,  with  their  major,  Duncan  Campbell  of 


70          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

Inverawe,  silent  and  gloomy  amid  the  general  cheer,  for 
his  soul  was  dark  with  foreshadowings  of  death.  With 
this  central  column  came  what  are  described  as  two 
floating  castles,  which  were  no  doubt  batteries  to  cover 
the  landing  of  the  troops.  On  the  right  hand  and  the 
left  were  the  provincials,  uniformed  in  blue,  regiment 
after  regiment,  from  Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  New 
York,  New  Jersey,  and  Rhode  Island.  Behind  them  all 
came  the  bateaux,  loaded  with  stores  and  baggage,  and 
the  heavy  flat  boats  that  carried  the  artillery,  while  a 
rear-guard  of  provincials  and  regulars  closed  the  long 
procession. 

At  five  in  the  afternoon  they  reached  Sabbath-Day 
Point,  twenty-five  miles  down  the  lake,  where  they 
stopped  till  late  in  the  evening,  waiting  for  the  baggage 
and  artillery,  which  had  lagged  behind ;  and  here  Lord 
Howe,  lying  on  a  bearskin  by  the  side  of  the  ranger, 
John  Stark,  questioned  him  as  to  the  position  of  Ticon- 
deroga  and  its  best  points  of  approach.  At  about  eleven 
o'clock  they  set  out  again,  and  at  daybreak  entered  what 
was  then  called  the  Second  Narrows ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
contraction  of  the  lake  where  it  approaches  its  outlet. 
Close  on  their  left,  ruddy  in  the  warm  sunrise,  rose  the 
vast  bare  face  of  Rogers  Rock,  whence  a  French  advanced 
party,  under  Langy  and  an  officer  named  Trepezec,  was 
watching  their  movements.  Lord  Howe,  with  Rogers  and 
Bradstreet,  went  in  whaleboats  to  reconnoitre  the  land 
ing.  At  the  place  which  the  French  called  the  Burned 
Camp,  where  Montcalm  had  embarked  the  summer  be 
fore,  they  saw  a  detachment  of  the  enemy  too  weak  to 
oppose  them.  Their  men  landed  and  drove  them  off. 
At  noon  the  whole  army  was  on  shore.  Rogers,  with 
a  party  of  rangers,  was  ordered  forward  to  reconnoitre, 
and  the  troops  were  formed  for  the  march. 


OKETCH     OF    THE 
C  OUNTRY  RO  UNO 

TYCONDEROGA 


XA  TTON. 

A  •  fTyconderogcL,  . 
B.  Retrajichment  . 


D.  Set  w-rn-ill  . 

E  French  adyanc'd.  Post. 

F.  Isle  a-u.  WtoiUorv. 

G.  LcLncHn,?  Pia.ce,  . 

II.  Irit/'enchrnent  to  Cou  ver  if  'Batt 

Do  en  ty^E  .Meyer  of  if  60 


BATTLE    OF    T1CONDEROGA.  71 

From  this  part  of  the  shore l  a  plain  covered  with 
forest  stretched  north  westward  half  a  mile  or  more  to 
the  mountains  behind  which  lay  the  valley  of  Trout 
Brook.  On  this  plain  the  army  began  its  march  in  four 
columns,  with  the  intention  of  passing  round  the  west 
ern  bank  of  the  river  of  the  outlet,  since  the  bridge  over 
it  had  been  destroyed.  Rogers,  with  the  provincial 
regiments  of  Fitch  and  Lyman,  led  the  way,  at  some 
distance  before  the  rest.  The  forest  was  extremely 
dense  and  heavy,  and  so  obstructed  with  undergrowth 
that  it  was  impossible  to  see  more  than  a  few  yards  in 
any  direction,  while  the  ground  was  encumbered  with 
fallen  trees  in  every  stage  of  decay.  The  ranks  were 
broken,  and  the  men  struggled  on  as  they  could  in 
dampness  and  shade,  under  a  canopy  of  boughs  that  the 
sun  could  scarcely  pierce.  The  difficulty  increased 
when,  after  advancing  about  a  mile,  they  came  upon 
undulating  and  broken  ground.  They  were  now  not  far 
from  the  upper  rapids  of  the  outlet.  The  guides  became 
bewildered  in  the  maze  of  trunks  and  boughs;  the 
marching  columns  were  confused,  and  fell  in  one  upon 
the  other.  They  were  in  the  strange  situation  of  an 
army  lost  in  the  woods. 

The  advanced  party  of  French  under  Langy  and 
Trepezec,  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  in  all,  regulars 
and  Canadians,  had  tried  to  retreat;  but  before  they 
could  do  so,  the  whole  English  army  had  passed  them, 
landed,  and  placed  itself  between  them  and  their  country 
men.  They  had  no  resource  but  to  take  to  the  woods. 
They  seem  to  have  climbed  the  steep  gorge  at  the  side 
of  Rogers  Rock  and  followed  the  Indian  path  that  led 
to  the  valley  of  Trout  Brook,  thinking  to  descend  it, 
and,  by  circling  along  the  outskirts  of  the  valley  of 

1  Between  the  old  and  new  steamboat-landings,  and  parts  adjacent. 


72          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

Ticonderoga,  reach  Montcalm's  camp  at  the  saw-mill. 
Langy  was  used  to  bushranging ;  but  he  too  became  per 
plexed  in  the  blind  intricacies  of  the  forest.  Towards  the 
close  of  the  day  he  and  his  men  had  come  out  from  the 
valley  of  Trout  Brook,  and  were  near  the  junction  of  that 
stream  with  the  river  of  the  outlet,  in  a  state  of  some 
anxiety,  for  they  could  see  nothing  but  brown  trunks  and 
green  boughs.  Could  any  of  them  have  climbed  one  of 
the  great  pines  that  here  and  there  reared  their  shaggy 
spires  high  above  the  surrounding  forest,  they  would 
have  discovered  where  they  were,  but  would  have 
gained  not  the  faintest  knowledge  of  the  enemy.  Out 
of  the  woods  on  the  right  they  would  have  seen  a  smoke 
rising  from  the  burning  huts  of  the  French  camp  at  the 
head  of  the  portage,  which  Bourlamaque  had  set  on  fire 
and  abandoned.  At  a  mile  or  more  in  front,  the  saw 
mill  at  the  Falls  might  perhaps  have  been  descried,  and, 
by  glimpses  between  the  trees,  the  tents  of  the  neighbor 
ing  camp  where  Montcalm  still  lay  with  his  main  force. 
All  the  rest  seemed  lonely  as  the  grave ;  mountain  and 
valley  lay  wrapped  in  primeval  woods,  and  none  could 
have  dreamed  that,  not  far  distant,  an  army  was  groping 
its  way,  buried  in  foliage;  no  rumbling  of  wagons  and 
artillery  trains,  for  none  were  there ;  all  silent  but  the 
cawing  of  some  crow  flapping  his  black  wings  over  the 
sea  of  tree-tops. 

Lord  Howe,  with  Major  Israel  Putnam  and  two  hun 
dred  rangers,  was  at  the  head  of  the  principal  column, 
which  was  a  little  in  advance  of  the  three  others.  Sud 
denly  the  challenge,  Qui  vive  !  rang  sharply  from  the 
thickets  in  front.  Francais !  was  the  reply.  Langy 'a 
men  were  not  deceived  ;  they  fired  out  of  the  bushes. 
The  shots  were  returned ;  a  hot  skirmish  followed ; 
and  Lord  Howe  dropped  dead,  shot  through  the  breast. 


BATTLE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  73 

All  was  confusion.  The  dull,  vicious  reports  of  mus 
ketry  in  thick  woods,  at  first  few  and  scattering,  then 
in  fierce  and  rapid  volleys,  reached  the  troops  behind. 
They  could  hear,  but  see  nothing.  Already  harassed 
and  perplexed,  they  became  perturbed.  For  all  they 
knew,  Montcalm's  whole  army  was  upon  them.  Nothing 
prevented  a  panic  but  the  steadiness  of  the  rangers,  who 
maintained  the  fight  alone  till  the  rest  came  back  to 
their  senses.  Rogers,  with  his  reconnoitring  party,  and 
the  regiments  of  Fitch  and  Lyman,  were  at  no  great 
distance  in  front.  They  all  turned  on  hearing  the  mus 
ketry,  and  thus  the  French  were  caught  between  two 
fires.  They  fought  with  desperation.  About  fifty  of 
them  at  length  escaped ;  a  hundred  and  forty-eight 
were  captured,  and  the  rest  killed  or  drowned  in  trying 
to  cross  the  rapids.  The  loss  of  the  English  was  small 
in  numbers,  but  immeasurable  in  the  death  of  Howe. 
"  The  fall  of  this  noble  and  brave  officer,"  says  Rogers, 
"  seemed  to  produce  an  almost  general  languor  and  con 
sternation  through  the  whole  army."  "  In  Lord  Howe," 
writes  another  contemporary,  Major  Thomas  Mante, 
"  the  soul  of  General  Abercromby's  army  seemed  to 
expire.  From  the  unhappy  moment  the  General  was 
deprived  of  his  advice,  neither  order  nor  discipline  was 
observed,  and  a  strange  kind  of  infatuation  usurped  the 
place  of  resolution."  The  death  of  one  man  was  the 
ruin  of  fifteen  thousand. 

The  evil  news  was  despatched  to  Albany,  and  in  two 
or  three  days  the  messenger  who  bore  it  passed  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Schuyler  on  the  meadows  above  the  town. 
"  In  the  afternoon,"  says  her  biographer,  "  a  man  was 
seen  coming  from  the  north  galloping  violently  without 
his  hat.  Pedrom,  as  he  was  familiarly  called.  Colonel 
Schuyler's  only  surviving  brother,  was  with  her,  and  ran 


74  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

instantly  to  inquire,  well  knowing  that  he  rode  express. 
The  man  galloped  on,  crying  out  that  Lord  Howe  was 
killed.  The  mind  of  our  good  aunt  had  heen  so  en 
grossed  by  her  anxiety  and  fears  for  the  event  impend 
ing,  and  so  impressed  with  the  merit  and  magnanimity 
of  her  favorite  hero,  that  her  wonted  firmness  sank 
under  the  stroke,  and  she  broke  out  into  bitter  lamenta 
tions.  This  had  such  an  effect  on  her  friends  and  do 
mestics  that  shrieks  and  sobs  of  anguish  echoed  through 
every  part  of  the  house." 

The  effect  of  the  loss  was  seen  at  once.  The  army 
was  needlessly  kept  under  arms  all  night  in  the  forest, 
and  in  the  morning  was  ordered  back  to  the  landing 
whence  it  came.  Towards  noon,  however,  Bradstreet 
was  sent  with  a  detachment  of  regulars  and  provincials 
to  take  possession  of  the  saw-mill  at  the  Falls,  which 
Montcalm  had  abandoned  the  evening  before.  Brad- 
street  rebuilt  the  bridges  destroyed  by  the  retiring 
enemy,  and  sent  word  to  his  commander  that  the  way 
was  open ;  on  which  Abercromby  again  put  his  army 
in  motion,  reached  the  Falls  late  in  the  afternoon,  and 
occupied  the  deserted  encampment  of  the  French. 

Montcalm  with  his  main  force  had  held  this  position 
at  the  Falls  through  most  of  the  preceding  day,  doubtful, 
it  seems,  to  the  last  whether  he  should  not  make  his 
final  stand  there.  Bourlamaque  was  for  doing  so ;  but 
two  old  officers,  Bernes  and  Montguy,  pointed  out  the 
danger  that  the  English  would  occupy  the  neighboring 
heights ;  whereupon  Montcalm  at  length  resolved  to  fall 
back.  The  camp  was  broken  up  at  five  o'clock.  Some 
of  the  troops  embarked  in  bateaux,  while  others  marched 
a  mile  and  a  half  along  the  forest  road,  passed  the 
place  where  the  battalion  of  Berry  was  still  at  work  on 
the  breastwork  begun  in  the  morning,  and  made  their 


BATTLE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  75 

bivouac  a  little  farther  on,  upon  the  cleared  ground  that 
surrounded  the  fort. 

The  peninsula  of  Ticonderoga  consists  of  a  rocky  pla 
teau,  with  low  grounds  oh  each  side,  bordering  Lake 
Champlain  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  outlet  of  Lake 
George  on  the  other.  The  fort  stood  near  the  end  of 
the  peninsula,  which  points  towards  the  southeast. 
Thence,  as  one  goes  westward,  the  ground  declines  a 
little,  and  then  slowly  rises,  till,  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  fort,  it  reaches  its  greatest  elevation,  and  begins 
still  more  gradually  to  decline  again.  Thus  a  ridge  is 
formed  across  the  plateau  between  the  steep  declivities 
that  sink  to  the  low  grounds  on  right  and  left.  Some 
weeks  before,  a  French  officer  named  Hugues  had  sug 
gested  the  defence  of  this  ridge  by  means  of  an  abatis. 
Montcalm  approved  his  plan ;  and  now,  at  the  eleventh 
hour,  he  resolved  to  make  his  stand  here.  The  two 
engineers,  Pontleroy  and  Desandrouin,  had  already 
traced  the  outline  of  the  works,  and  the  soldiers  of 
the  battalion  of  Berry  had  made  some  progress  in  con 
structing  them.  At  dawn  of  the  seventh,  while  Aber- 
cromby,  fortunately  for  his  enemy,  was  drawing  his 
troops  back  to  the  landing-place,  the  whole  French 
army  fell  to  their  task.  The  regimental  colors  were 
planted  along  the  line,  and  the  officers,  stripped  to  the 
shirt,  took  axe  in  hand  and  labored  with  their  men. 
The  trees  that  covered  the  ground  were  hewn  down  by 
thousands,  the  tops  lopped  off,  and  the  trunks  piled  one 
upon  another  to  form  a  massive  breastwork.  The  line 
followed  the  top  of  the  ridge,  along  which  it  zigzagged  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  whole  front  could  be  swept  by 
flank  fires  of  musketry  and  grape.  Abercromby  describes 
the  wall  of  logs  as  between  eight  and  nine  feet  high ;  in 
which  case  there  must  have  been  a  rude  banquette,  or 


70     LAKE  GEORGE  AND  LAKE  CHAM  PLAIN. 

platform  to  fire  from,  on  the  inner  side.  It  was  cer 
tainly  so  high  that  nothing  could  be  seen  over  it  but  the 
crowns  of  the  soldiers'  hats.  The  upper  tier  was  formed 
of  single  logs,  in  which  notches  were  cut  to  serve  as 
loopholes ;  and  in  some  places  sods  and  bags  of  sand 
were  piled  along  the  top,  with  narrow  spaces  to  fire 
through.  From  the  central  part  of  the  line  the  ground 
sloped  away  like  a  natural  glacis  ;  while  at  the  sides, 
and  especially  on  the  left,  it  was  undulating  and  broken. 
Over  this  whole  space,  to  the  distance  of  a  musket- 
shot  from  the  works,  the  forest  was  cut  down,  and  the 
trees  left  lying  where  they  fell  among  the  stumps,  with 
tops  turned  outwards,  forming  one  vast  abatis,  which,  as 
a  Massachusetts  officer  says,  looked  like  a  forest  laid  flat 
by  a  hurricane.  But  the  most  formidable  obstruction  was 
immediately  along  the  front  of  the  breastwork,  where  the 
ground  was  covered  with  heavy  boughs,  overlapping  and 
interlaced,  with  sharpened  points  bristling  into  the  face 
of  the  assailant  like  the  quills  of  a  porcupine.  As  these 
works  were  all  of  wood,  no  vestige  of  them  remains. 
The  earthworks  now  shown  to  tourists  as  the  lines  of 
Montcalm  are  of  later  construction ;  and  though  on  the 
same  ground,  are  not  on  the  same  plan. 

Here,  then,  was  a  position  which,  if  attacked  in  front 
with  musketry  alone,  might  be  called  impregnable.  But 
would  Abercromby  so  attack  it  ?  He  had  several  alter 
natives.  He  might  attempt  the  flank  and  rear  of  his 
enemy  by  way  of  the  low  grounds  on  the  right  and  left 
of  the  plateau,  a  movement  which  the  precautions  of 
Montcalm  had  made  difficult,  but  not  impossible.  Or, 
instead  of  leaving  his  artillery  idle  on  the  strand  of 
Lake  George,  he  might  bring  it  to  the  front  and  batter 
the  breastwork,  which,  though  impervious  to  musketry, 
was  worthless  against  heavy  cannon.  Or  he  might  do 


BATTLE    OF    T1COXDEROGA.  77 

what  Burgoyne  did  with  success  a  score  of  years  later, 
and  plant  a  battery  on  the  heights  of  Rattlesnake  Hill, 
now  called  Mount  Defiance,  which  commanded  the  posi 
tion  of  the  French,  and  whence  the  inside  of  their  breast 
work  could  be  scoured  with  round-shot  from  end  to  end. 
Or,  while  threatening  the  French  front  with  a  part  of 
his  army,  he  could  march  the  rest  a  short  distance 
through  the  woods  on  his  left  to  the  road  which  led 
from  Ticonderoga  to  Crown  Point,  and  which  would 
soon  have  brought  him  to  the  place  called  Five-Mile 
Point,  where  Lake  Chaniplain  narrows  to  the  width  of 
an  easy  rifle-shot,  and  where  a  battery  of  field-pieces 
would  have  cut  off  all  Montcalm's  supplies  and  closed 
his  only  way  of  retreat.  As  the  French  were  provis 
ioned  for  but  eight  days,  their  position  would  thus  have 
been  desperate.  They  plainly  saw  the  danger  ;  and 
Doreil  declares  that  had  the  movement  been  made,  their 
whole  army  must  have  surrendered.  Montcalm  had 
done  what  he  could  ;  but  the  danger  of  his  position  was 
inevitable  and  extreme.  His  hope  lay  in  Abercromby  ; 
and  it  was  a  hope  well  founded.  The  action  of  the 
English  general  answered  the  utmost  wishes  of  his 
enemy. 

Abercromby  had  been  told  by  his  prisoners  that 
Montcalm  had  six  thousand  men,  and  that  three  thou 
sand  more  were  expected  every  hour.  Therefore  he 
was  in  haste  to  attack  before  these  succors  could  arrive. 
As  was  the  general,  so  was  the  army.  "  I  believe," 
writes  an  officer,  "  we  were  one  and  all  infatuated  by  a 
notion  of  carrying  every  obstacle  by  a  mere  coup  de 
mousqueterie"  Leadership  perished  with  Lord  Howe, 
and  nothing  wras  left  but  blind,  headlong  valor. 

Clerk,  chief  engineer,  was  sent  to  reconnoitre  the 
French  works  from  Mount  Defiance  ;  and  came  back 


78          LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    C11AMPLA1N. 

with  the  report  that,  to  judge  from  what  he  could  see, 
they  might  be  carried  by  assault.  Then,  without  wait 
ing  to  bring  up  his  cannon,  Abercromby  prepared  to 
storm  the  lines. 

The  French  finished  their  breastwork  and  abatis  on 
the  evening  of  the  seventh,  encamped  behind  them, 
slung  their  kettles,  and  rested  after  their  heavy  toil. 
LeVis  had  not  yet  appeared  ;  but  at  twilight  one  of  his 
officers,  Captain  Pouchot,  arrived  with  three  hundred 
regulars,  and  announced  that  his  commander  would 
come  before  morning  with  a  hundred  more.  The  rein 
forcement,  though  small,  was  welcome,  and  LeVis  was 
a  host  in  himself.  Pouchot  was  told  that  the  army  was 
half  a  mile  off.  Thither  he  repaired,  made  his  report 
to  Montcalm,  and  looked  with  amazement  at  the  pro 
digious  amount  of  work  accomplished  in  one  day. 
LeVis  himself  arrived  in  the  course  of  the  night,  and 
approved  the  arrangement  of  the  troops.  They  lay 
behind  their  lines  till  daybreak  ;  then  the  drums  beat, 
and  they  formed  in  order  of  battle.  The  battalions  of 
La  Sarre  and  Languedoc  were  posted  on  the  left,  under 
Bourlamaque,  the  first  battalion  of  Berry  with  that  of 
Royal  Roussillon  in  the  centre,  under  Montcalm,  and 
those  of  La  Reine,  Be'arn,  and  Guienne  on  the  right, 
under  LeVis.  A  detachment  of  volunteers  occupied  the 
low  grounds  between  the  breastwork  and  the  outlet  of 
Lake  George  ;  while,  at  the  foot  of  the  declivity  on  the 
side  towards  Lake  Champlain,  were  stationed  four  hun 
dred  and  fifty  colony  regulars  and  Canadians,  behind  an 
abatis  which  they  had  made  for  themselves  ;  and  as 
they  were  covered  by  the  cannon  of  the  fort,  there  was 
some  hope  that  they  would  check  any  flank  movement 
which  the  English  might  attempt  on  that  side.  Their 
posts  being  thus  assigned,  the  men  fell  to  work  again  to 


BATTLE    OF    T1CONDEROGA.  79 

strengthen  their  defences.  Including  those  who  came 
with  Levis,  the  total  force  of  effective  soldiers  was  now 
thirty-six  hundred. 

Soon  after  nine  o'clock  a  distant  and  harmless  fire  of 
small-arms  began  on  the  slopes  of  Mount  Defiance.  It 
came  from  a  party  of  Indians  who  had  just  arrived  with 
Sir  William  Johnson,  and  who,  after  amusing  themselves 
in  this  manner  for  a  time,  remained  for  the  rest  of  the 
day  safe  spectators  of  the  fight.  The  soldiers  worked 
undisturbed  till  noon,  when  volleys  of  musketry  were 
heard  from  the  forest  in  front.  It  was  the  English  light 
troops  driving  jn  the  French  pickets.  A  cannon  was 
fired  as  a  signal  to  drop  tools  and  form  for  battle.  The 
white  uniforms  lined  the  breastwork  in  a  triple  row, 
with  the  grenadiers  behind  them  as  a  reserve,  and  the 
second  battalion  of  Berry  watching  the  flanks  and  rear. 

Meanwhile  the  English  army  had  moved  forward  from 
its  camp  by  the  saw-mill.  First  came  the  rangers,  the 
light  infantry,  and  Bradstreet's  armed  boatmen,  who, 
emerging  into  the  open  space,  began  a  spattering  fire. 
Some  of  the  provincial  troops  followed,  extending  from 
left  to  right,  and  opening  fire  in  turn ;  then  the  regulars, 
who  had  formed  in  columns  of  attack  under  cover  of  the 
forest,  advanced  their  solid  red  masses  into  the  sunlight, 
and  passing  through  the  intervals  between  the  provincial 
regiments,  pushed  forward  to  the  assault.  Across  the 
rough  ground,  with  its  maze  of  fallen  trees  whose  leaves 
hung  withering  in  the  July  sun,  they  could  see  the  top 
of  the  breastwork,  but  not  the  men  behind  it ;  when,  in 
an  instant,  all  the  line  was  obscured  by  a  gush  of  smoke, 
a  crash  of  exploding  firearms  tore  the  air,  and  grapeshot 
and  musket-balls  swept  the  whole  space  like  a  tempest ; 
"  a  damnable  fire,"  says  an  officer  who  heard  them  scream 
ing  about  his  ears.  The  English  had  been  ordered  to 


80          LAKE    GEORGE   AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

carry  the  works  with  the  bayonet ;  but  their  ranks  were 
broken  by  the  obstructions  through  which  they  struggled 
in  vain  to  force  their  way,  and  they  soon  began  to  fire  in 
turn.  The  storm  raged  in  full  fury  for  an  hour.  The 
assailants  pushed  close  to  the  breastwork ;  but  there  they 
were  stopped  by  the  bristling  mass  of  sharpened  branches, 
which  they  could  not  pass  under  the  murderous  cross 
fires  that  swept  them  from  front  and  flank.  At  length 
they  fell  back,  exclaiming  that  the  works  were  impreg 
nable.  Abercromby,  who  was  at  the  saw-mill,  a  mile 
and  a  half  in  the  rear,  sent  orders  to  attack  again,  and 
again  they  came  on  as  before. 

The  scene  was  frightful :  masses  of  infuriated  men 
who  could  not  go  forward  and  would  not  go  back ; 
straining  for  an  enemy  they  could  not  reach,  and  firing 
on  an  enemy  they  could  not  see ;  caught  in  the  entangle 
ment  of  fallen  trees ;  tripped  by  briers,  stumbling  over 
logs,  tearing  through  boughs ;  shouting,  yelling,  cursing, 
and  pelted  all  the  while  with  bullets  that  killed  them 
by  scores,  stretched  them  on  the  ground,  or  hung  them 
on  jagged  branches  in  strange  attitudes  of  death.  The 
provincials  supported  the  regulars  with  spirit,  and  some 
of  them  forced  their  way  to  the  foot  of  the  wooden  wall. 

The  French  fought  with  the  intrepid  gayety  of  their 
nation,  and  shouts  of  Vive  le  Roi !  and  Vive  noire  Gre- 
neral !  mingled  with  the  din  of  musketry.  Montcalm, 
with  his  coat  off,  for  the  day  was  hot,  directed  the  de 
fence  of  the  centre,  and  repaired  to  any  part  of  the  line 
where  the  danger  for  the  time  seemed  greatest.  He  is 
warm  in  praise  of  his  enemy,  and  declares  that  between 
one  and  seven  o'clock  they  attacked  him  six  successive 
times.  Early  in  the  action  Abercromby  tried  to  turn 
the  French  left  by  sending  twenty  bateaux,  filled  with 
troops,  down  the  outlet  of  Lake  George.  They  were 


BATTLE    OF   TICONDEROGA.  81 

met  by  the  fire  of  the  volunteers  stationed  to  defend  the 
low  grounds  on  that  side,  and,  still  advancing,  came 
within  range  of  the  cannon  of  the  fort,  which  sank  two 
of  them  and  drove  back  the  rest. 

A  curious  incident  happened  during  one  of  the  attacks. 
De  Bassignac,  a  captain  in  the  battalion  of  Royal  Rous- 
sillon,  tied  his  handkerchief  to  the  end  of  a  musket  and 
waved  it  over  the  breastwork  in  defiance.  The  English 
mistook  it  for  a  sign  of  surrender,  and  came  forward 
with  all  possible  speed,  holding  their  muskets  crossed 
over  their  heads  in  both  hands,  and  crying  Quarter. 
The  French  made  the  same  mistake ;  and  thinking  that 
their  enemies  were  giving  themselves  up  as  prisoners, 
ceased  firing,  and  mounted  on  the  top  of  the  breastwork 
to  receive  them.  Captain  Pouchot,  astonished,  as  he  says, 
to  see  them  perched  there,  looked  out  to  learn  the  cause, 
and  saw  that  the  enemy  meant  anything  but  surrender. 
Whereupon  he  shouted  with  all  his  might :  "  Tirez ! 
Tirez!  Ne  voyez-vous  pas  que  ces  gens-Id  vont  vous  en- 
lever?"  The  soldiers,  still  standing  on  the  breastwork, 
instantly  gave  the  English  a  volley,  which  killed  some  of 
them,  and  sent  back  the  rest  discomfited. 

This  was  set  to  the  account  of  Gallic  treachery.  "An 
other  deceit  the  enemy  put  upon  us,"  says  a  military 
letter-writer :  "  they  raised  their  hats  above  the  breast 
work,  which  our  people  fired  at ;  they  having  loopholes 
to  fire  through,  and  being  covered  by  the  sods,  we  did 
them  little  damage,  except  shooting  their  hats  to  pieces." 
In  one  of  the  last  assaults  a  soldier  of  the  Rhode  Island 
regiment,  William  Smith,  managed  to  get  through  all 
obstructions  and  ensconce  himself  close  under  the  breast 
work,  where  in  the  confusion  he  remained  for  a  time 
unnoticed,  improving  his  advantages  meanwhile  by  shoot 
ing  several  Frenchmen.  Being  at  length  observed,  a 

6 


LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

soldier  fired  vertically  down  upon  him  and  wounded  him 
severely,  but  not  enough  to  prevent  his  springing  up, 
striking  at  one  of  his  enemies  over  the  top  of  the  wall, 
and  braining  him  with  his  hatchet.  A  British  officer 
who  saw  the  feat,  and  was  struck  by  the  reckless  daring 
of  the  man,  ordered  two  regulars  to  bring  him  off; 
which,  covered  by  a  brisk  fire  of  musketry,  they  suc 
ceeded  in  doing.  A  letter  from  the  camp  two  or  three 
weeks  later  reports  him  as  in  a  fair  way  to  recover, 
being,  says  the  writer,  much  braced  and  invigorated  by 
his  anger  against  the  French,  on  whom  he  was  swearing 
to  have  his  revenge. 

Toward  five  o'clock  two  English  columns  joined  in  a 
most  determined  assault  on  the  extreme  right  of  the 
French,  defended  by  the  battalions  of  Guienne  and 
Be'arn.  The  danger  for  a  time  was  imminent.  Mont- 
calm  hastened  to  the  spot  with  the  reserves.  The 
assailants  hewed  their  way  to  the  foot  of  the  breastwork  ; 
and  though  again  and  again  repulsed,  they  again  and 
again  renewed  the  attack.  The  Highlanders  fought  with 
stubborn  and  unconquerable  fury.  "  Even  those  who 
were  mortally  wounded,"  writes  one  of  their  lieutenants, 
"  cried  to  their  companions  not  to  lose  a  thought  upon 
them,  but  to  follow  their  officers  and  mind  the  honor  of 
their  country.  Their  ardor  was  such  that  it  was  diffi 
cult  to  bring  them  off."  Their  major,  Campbell  of 
Inverawe,  found  his  foreboding  true.  He  received  a 
mortal  shot,  and  his  clansmen  bore  him  from  the  field. 
Twenty-five  of  their  officers  were  killed  or  wounded,  and 
half  the  men  fell  under  the  deadly  fire  that  poured  from 
the  loopholes.  Captain  John  Campbell  and  a  few  fol 
lowers  tore  their  way  through  the  abatis,  climbed  the 
breastwork,  leaped  down  among  the  French,  and  were 
bavoneted  there. 


BATTLE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  83 

As  the  colony  troops  and  Canadians  on  the  low  ground 
were  left  undisturbed,  Ldvis  sent  them  an  order  to  make 
a  sortie  and  attack  the  left  flank  of  the  charging  col 
umns.  They  accordingly  posted  themselves  among  the 
trees  along  the  declivity,  and  fired  upwards  at  the  en 
emy,  who  presently  shifted  their  position  to  the  right, 
out  of  the  line  of  shot.  The  assault  still  continued,  but 
in  vain ;  and  at  six  there  was  another  effort,  equally 
fruitless.  From  this  time  till  half-past  seven  a  linger 
ing  fight  was  kept  up  by  the  rangers  and  other  provin 
cials,  firing  from  the  edge  of  the  woods  and  from  behind 
the  stumps,  bushes,  and  fallen  trees  in  front  of  the  lines. 
Its  only  objects  were  to  cover  their  comrades,  who  were 
collecting  and  bringing  off  the  wounded,  and  to  protect 
the  retreat  of  the  regulars,  who  fell  back  in  disorder  to 
the  Falls.  As  twilight  came  on,  the  last  combatant  with 
drew,  and  none  were  left  but  the  dead.  Abercromby  had 
lost  in  killed,  wounded,  and  missing,  nineteen  hundred 
and  forty-four  officers  and  men.  The  loss  of  the  French, 
not  counting  that  of  Langy's  detachment,  was  three  hun 
dred  and  seventy-seven.  Bourlamaque  was  dangerously 
wounded ;  Bougainville  slightly ;  and  the  hat  of  LeVis 
was  twice  shot  through. 

Montcalm,  with  a  mighty  load  lifted  from  his  soul, 
passed  along  the  lines,  and  gave  the  tired  soldiers  the 
thanks  they  nobly  deserved.  Beer,  wine,  and  food  were 
served  out  to  them,  and  they  bivouacked  for  the  night 
on  the  level  ground  between  the  breastwork  and  the 
fort.  The  enemy  had  met  a  terrible  rebuff;  yet  the 
danger  was  not  over.  Abercromby  still  had  more  than 
thirteen  thousand  men,  and  he  might  renew  the  attack 
with  cannon.  But,  on  the  morning  of  the  ninth,  a  band 
of  volunteers  who  had  gone  out  to  watch  him  brought 


84  LAKE    GEORGE    AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 

back  the  report  that  he  was  in  full  retreat.  The  saw 
mill  at  the  Falls  was  on  fire,  and  the  last  English  sol 
dier  was  gone.  On  the  morning  of  the  tenth,  Luvis, 
with  a  strong  detachment,  followed  the  road  to  the 
landing-place,  and  found  signs  that  a  panic  had  over 
taken  the  defeated  troops.  They  had  left  behind  several 
hundred  barrels  of  provisions  and  a  large  quantity  of 
baggage ;  while  in  a  marshy  place  that  they  had  crossed 
was  found  a  considerable  number  of  their  shoes,  which 
had  stuck  in  the  mud,  and  which  they  had  not  stopped 
to  recover.  They  had  embarked  on  the  morning  after 
the  battle,  and  retreated  to  the  head  of  the  lake  in  a 
disorder  and  dejection  wofully  contrasted  with  the  pomp 
of  their  advance.  A  gallant  army  was  sacrificed  by  the 
blunders  of  its  chief. 

Montcalm  announced  his  victory  to  his  wife  in  a  strain 
of  exaggeration  that  marks  the  exaltation  of  his  mind. 
"  Without  Indians,  almost  without  Canadians  or  colony 
troops,  —  I  had  only  four  hundred,  —  alone  with  LeVis 
and  Bourlamaque  and  the  troops  of  the  line,  thirty-one 
hundred  fighting  men,  I  have  beaten  an  army  of  twenty- 
five  thousand.  They  repassed  the  lake  precipitately, 
with  a  loss  of  at  least  five  thousand.  This  glorious  day 
does  infinite  honor  to  the  valor  of  our  battalions.  I  have 
no  time  to  write  more.  I  am  well,  my  dearest,  and  I 
embrace  you."  And  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Dorcil: 
"  The  army,  the  too-small  army  of  the  King,  has  beaten 
the  enemy.  What  a  day  for  France  !  If  I  had  had  two 
hundred  Indians  to  send  out  at  the  head  of  a  thousand 
picked  men  under  the  Chevalier  de  Levis,  not  many 
would  have  escaped.  Ah,  my  dear  Doreil,  what  soldiers 
are  ours !  I  never  saw  the  like.  Why  were  they  not 
at  Louisbourg?" 


BATTLE    OF   T1CONDEHOGA.  85 

On  the  morrow  of  his  victory  he  caused  a  great  cross 
to  be  planted  on  the  battle-field,  inscribed  with  these 
lines,  composed  by  the  soldier-scholar  himself, — 

"  Quid  dux  ?  quid  miles  ?  quid  strata  ingentia  ligna  ? 

"  En  Signum  !  en  victor  !  Deus  hie,  Deus  ipse  triumphat." 

"  Soldier  and  chief  and  rampart's  strength  are  nought ; 
Behold  the  conquering  Cross  !  'T  is  God  the  triumph  wrought." 


A  LEGEND   OF  TICONDEROGA. 

"IV /TENTION  has  been  made  of  the  death  of  Major 
-L'-L  Duncan  Campbell  of  Inverawe.  The  following 
family  tradition  relating  to  it  was  told  me  in  1878  by 
the  late  Dean  Stanley,  to  whom  I  am  also  indebted  for 
various  papers  on  the  subject,  including  a  letter  from 
James  Campbell,  Esq.,  the  present  laird  of  Inverawe, 
and  great-nephew  of  the  hero  of  the  tale.  The  same 
story  is  told,  in  an  amplified  form  and  with  some  vari 
ations,  in  the  Legendary  Tales  of  the  Highlands  of  Sir 
Thomas  Dick  Lauder.  As  related  by  Dean  Stanley  and 
approved  by  Mr.  Campbell,  it  is  this :  — 

The  ancient  castle  of  Inverawe  stands  by  the  banks 
of  the  Awe,  in  the  midst  of  the  wild  and  picturesque 
scenery  of  the  western  Highlands.  Late  one  evening, 
before  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  as  the  laird,  Dun 
can  Campbell,  sat  alone  in  the  old  hall,  there  was  a  loud 
knocking  at  the  gate ;  and,  opening  it,  he  saw  a  stranger, 
with  torn  clothing  and  kilt  besmeared  with  blood,  who 
in  a  breathless  voice  begged  for  asylum.  He  went  on  to 
say  that  he  had  killed  a  man  in  a  fray,  and  that  the 
pursuers  were  at  his  heels.  Campbell  promised  to  shel 
ter  him.  "  Swear  on  your  dirk  !  "  said  the  stranger ;  and 
Campbell  swore.  He  then  led  him  to  a  secret  recess  in 
the  depths  of  the  castle.  Scarcely  was  he  hidden  when 
again  there  was  a  loud  knocking  at  the  gate,  and  two 


A    LEGEND    OF    TICONDEROGA.  87 

armed  men  appeared.  "  Your  cousin  Donald  has  been 
murdered,  and  we  are  looking  for  the  murderer ! " 
Campbell,  remembering  his  oath,  professed  to  have  no 
knowledge  of  the  fugitive ;  and  the  men  went  on  their 
way.  The  laird,  in  great  agitation,  lay  down  to  rest  in  a 
large  dark  room,  where  at  length  he  fell  asleep.  Wak 
ing  suddenly  in  bewilderment  and  terror,  he  saw  the 
ghost  of  the  murdered  Donald  standing  by  his  bedside, 
and  heard  a  hollow  voice  pronounce  the  words :  "  Inver 
awe  !  Inverawe !  blood  has  been  shed.  Shield  not  the 
murderer ! "  In  the  morning  Campbell  went  to  the 
hiding-place  of  the  guilty  man  and  told  him  that  he 
could  harbor  him  no  longer.  "  You  have  sworn  on  your 
dirk ! "  he  replied ;  and  the  laird  of  Inverawe.  greatly 
perplexed  and  troubled,  made  a  compromise  between 
conflicting  duties,  promised  not  to  betray  his  guest,  led 
him  to  the  neighboring  mountain,  and  hid  him  in  a  cave. 

In  the  next  night,  as  he  lay  tossing  in  feverish  slum 
bers,  the  same  stern  voice  awoke  him,  the  ghost  of  his 
cousin  Donald  stood  again  at  his  bedside,  and  again  he 
heard  the  same  appalling  words:  " Inverawe !  Inverawe! 
blood  has  been  shed.  Shield  not  the  murderer!"  At 
break  of  day  he  hastened,  in  strange  agitation,  to  the 
cave;  but  it  was  empty,  the  stranger  was  gone.  At 
night,  as  he  strove  in  vain  to  sleep,  the  vision  appeared 
once  more,  ghastly  pale,  but  less  stern  of  aspect  than 
before.  "  Fareivell,  Inverawe  !  "  it  said  ;  "  Fareivell,  till 
we  meet  at  TICONDEROaA!" 

The  strange  name  dwelt  in  Campbell's  memory.  He 
had  joined  the  Black  Watch,  or  Forty-second  Regiment, 
then  employed  in  keeping  order  in  the  turbulent  High 
lands.  In  time  he  became  its  major ;  and,  a  year  or 
two  after  the  war  broke  out,  he  went  with  it  to  America. 
Here,  to  his  horror,  he  learned  that  it  was  ordered  to 


88          LAKE    GEORGE    AND   LAKE    CIIAMPLAIN. 

the  attack  of  Ticonderoga.  His  story  was  well  known 
among  his  brother  officers.  They  combined  among  them 
selves  to  disarm  his  fears ;  and  when  they  reached  the 
fatal  spot  they  told  him  on  the  eve  of  the  battle,  "  This 
is  not  Ticonderoga ;  we  are  not  there  yet ;  this  is  Fort 
George."  But  in  the  morning  he  came  to  them  with 
haggard  looks.  "  I  have  seen  him  !  You  have  deceived 
me  !  He  came  to  my  tent  last  night !  This  is  Ticon 
deroga  !  I  shall  die  to-day ! "  and  his  prediction  was 
fulfilled. 

Such  is  the  tradition.  The  indisputable  facts  are  that 
Major  Duncan  Campbell  of  Inverawe,  his  arm  shattered 
by  a  bullet,  was  carried  to  Fort  Edward,  where,  after 
amputation,  he  died  and  was  buried.  (Abercromby  to 
Pitt,  19  August,  1758.)  The  stone  that  marks  his  grave 
may  still  be  seen,  with  this  inscription :  "  Here  lyes  the 
Body  of  Duncan  Campbell  of  Inverawe,  Esqre.,  Major  to 
the  old  Highland  Regiment,  aged  55  Years,  who  died  the 
17'A  July,  1758,  of  the  Wounds  he  received  in  the  Attack 
of  the  Retrenchment  of  Ticonderoga  or  Carrillon,  on  the 
Sth  July,  1758." 

His  son,  Lieutenant  Alexander  Campbell,  was  severely 
wounded  at  the  same  time,  but  reached  Scotland  alive, 
and  died  in  Glasgow. 

Mr.  Campbell,  the  present  Inverawe,  in  the  letter  men 
tioned  above,  says  that  forty-five  years  ago  he  knew  an 
old  man  whose  grandfather  was  foster-brother  to  the 
slain  major  of  the  forty-second,  and  who  told  him  the 
following  story  while  carrying  a  salmon  for  him  to  an 
inn  near  Inverawe.  The  old  man's  grandfather  was 
sleeping  with  his  son,  then  a  lad,  in  the  same  room,  but 
in  another  bed.  This  son,  father  of  the  narrator,  "  was 


A   LEGEND   OF   TICONDEROGA.  89 

awakened,"  to  borrow  the  words  of  Mr.  Campbell,  "  by 
some  unaccustomed  sound,  and  behold  there  was  a  bright 
light  in  the  room,  and  he  saw  a  figure,  in  full  Highland 
regimentals,  cross  over  the  room  and  stoop  down  over 
his  father's  bed  and  give  him  a  kiss.  He  was  too  fright 
ened  to  speak,  but  put  his  head  under  his  coverlet  and 
went  to  sleep.  Once  more  he  was  roused  in  like  manner, 
and  saw  the  same  sight.  In  the  morning  he  spoke  to 
his  father  about  it,  who  told  him  that  it  was  Macdon- 
nochie  [the  Gaelic  patronymic  of  the  laird  of  Inverawe] 
whom  he  had  seen,  and  who  came  to  tell  him  that  he 
had  been  killed  in  a  great  battle  in  America.  Sure 
enough,  said  my  informant,  it  was  on  the  very  day  that 
the  battle  of  Ticonderoga  was  fought  and  the  laird  was 
killed." 

It  is  also  said  that, two  ladies  of  the  family  of  Inver- 
awe  saw  a  battle  in  the  clouds,  in  which  the  shadowy 
forms  of  Highland  warriors  were  plainly  to  be  descried ; 
and  that  when  the  fatal  news  came  from  America,  it  was 
found  that  the  time  of  the  vision  answered  exactly  to 
that  of  the  battle  in  which  the  head  of  the  family  fell. 


NIAGARA. 


SIEGE  OF  FORT  NIAGARA. 

^  I  "'HE  River  Niagara  was  known  to  the  Jesuits  as 
-••  early  as  1640.  The  Falls  are  indicated  on  Cham- 
plain's  map  of  1632,  and  in  1648  the  Jesuit  Rugueneau 
speaks  of  them  as  a  "  cataract  of  frightful  height." 

In  1678,  the  Falls  were  visited  by  the  friar  Louis 
Hennepin,  who  gives  an  exaggerated  description  of  them, 
and  illustrates  it  by  a  curious  picture.  The  name  Niag 
ara  is  of  Iroquois  origin,  and  in  the  Mohawk  dialect  is 
pronounced  Nyagarah. 

In  the  year  of  Hennepin's  visit,  the  followers  of  Cave- 
lier  de  la  Salle  began  a  fortified  storehouse  where  Lewis- 
ton  now  stands,  and  on  Cayuga  Creek,  a  few  miles 
above  the  Falls,  La  Salle  built  the  "  Griffin,"  the  first 
vessel  that  ever  sailed  on  the  Upper  Lakes.  At  the 
same  time  he  began  a  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  river. 
La  Salle's  fort  fell  to  ruin,  and  another  was  built  in 
its  place  a  few  years  after.  This,  too,  was  abandoned 
to  be  again  rebuilt,  and  the  post  remained  in  French 
hands  more  than  half  a  century.  It  was  of  the  greatest 
importance,  since  it  commanded  the  chief  route  from 
Canada  to  the  interior  of  the  continent.  At  length,  in 
1759,  the  year  of  Wolfe's  famous  victory  at  Quebec, 
General  Prideaux  was  sent  to  reduce  it. 

Prideaux  safely  reached  Niagara,  and  laid  siege  to  it. 
Fort  Niagara  was  a  strong  work,  lately  rebuilt  in 
regular  form  by  an  excellent  officer,  Captain  Pouchot, 


94  NIAGARA. 

of  the  battalion  of  Beam,  who  commanded  it.  It  stood 
where  the  present  fort  stands,  in  the  angle  formed  by 
the  junction  of  the  River  Niagara  with  Lake  Ontario, 
and  was  held  by  about  six  hundred  men,  well  supplied 
with  provisions  and  munitions  of  war.  Higher  up  the 
river,  a  mile  and  a  half  above  the  cataract,  there  was 
another  fort,  called  Little  Niagara,  built  of  wood,  and 
commanded  by  the  half-breed  officer,  Joncaire-Chabert, 
who  with  his  brother,  Joncaire-Clauzonne,  and  a  numer 
ous  clan  of  Indian  relatives,  had  long  thwarted  the 
efforts  of  Sir  William  Johnson  to  engage  the  Five 
Nations  in  the  English  cause.  But  recent  English 
successes  had  had  their  effect.  Joncaire's  influence 
was  waning,  and  Johnson  was  now  in  Prideaux's  camp 
with  nine  hundred  Five  Nation  warriors  pledged  to  fight 
the  French.  Joncaire,  finding  his  fort  untenable,  burned 
it,  and  came  with  his  garrison  and  his  Indian  friends  to 
reinforce  Niagara. 

Pouchot  had  another  resource,  on  which  he  con 
fidently  relied.  In  obedience  to  an  order  from  Vau- 
dreuil,  the  French  population  of  the  Illinois,  Detroit, 
and  other  distant  posts,  joined  with  troops  of  Western 
Indians,  had  come  down  the  Lakes  to  restore  French 
ascendency  on  the  Ohio.  These  mixed  bands  of  white 
men  and  red,  bushrangers  and  savages,  were  now  gath 
ered,  partly  at  Le  Bceuf  and  Venango,  but  chiefly  at 
Presquisle,  under  command  of  Aubry,  Ligneris,  Marin, 
and  other  partisan  chiefs,  the  best  in  Canada.  No 
sooner  did  Pouchot  learn  that  the  English  were  coming 
to  attack  him  than  he  sent  a  messenger  to  summon 
them  all  to  his  aid. 

The  siege  was  begun  in  form,  though  the  English 
engineers  were  so  incompetent  that  the  trenches,  as 
first  laid  out,  were  scoured  by  the  fire  of  the  place,  and 


SIEGE    OF   FORT    NIAGARA.  95 

had  to  be  made  anew.  At  last  the  batteries  opened  fire. 
A  shell  from  a  coehorn  burst  prematurely,  just  as  it 
left  the  mouth  of  the  piece,  and  a  fragment  striking 
Prideaux  on  the  head,  killed  him  instantly.  Johnson 
took  command  in  his  place,  and  made  up  in  energy  what 
he  lacked  in  skill.  In  two  or  three  weeks  the  fort  was 
in  extremity.  The  rampart  was  breached,  more  than 
a  hundred  of  the  garrison  were  killed  or  disabled,  and 
the  rest  were  exhausted  with  want  of  sleep.  Pouchot 
watched  anxiously  for  the  promised  succors ;  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-fourth  of  July  a  distant  firing 
told  him  that  they  were  at  hand. 

Aubry  and  Ligneris,  with  their  motley  following,  had 
left  Presquisle  a  few  days  before,  to  the  number,  accord 
ing  to  Yaudreuil,  of  eleven  hundred  French  and  two 
hundred  Indians.  Among  them  was  a  body  of  colony 
troops;  but  the  Frenchmen  of  the  party  were  chiefly 
traders  and  bushrangers  from  the  West,  connecting 
links  between  civilization  and  savagery ;  some  of  them 
indeed  were  mere  white  Indians,  imbued  with  the  ideas 
and  morals  of  the  wigwam,  wearing  hunting-shirts  of 
smoked  deer-skin  embroidered  with  quills  of  the  Canada 
porcupine,  painting  their  faces  black  and  red,  tying 
eagle  feathers  in  their  long  hair,  or  plastering  it  on  their 
temples  with  a  compound  of  vermilion  and  glue.  They 
were  excellent  woodsmen,  skilful  hunters,  and  perhaps 
the  best  bushfighters  in  all  Canada. 

When  Pouchot  heard  the  firing,  he  went  with  a 
wounded  artillery  officer  to  the  bastion  next  the  river ; 
and  as  the  forest  had  been  cut  away  for  a  great  distance, 
they  could  see  more  than  a  mile  and  a  half  along  the 
shore.  There,  by  glimpses  among  trees  and  bushes, 
they  descried  bodies  of  men,  now  advancing,  and  now 
retreating ;  Indians  in  rapid  movement,  and  the  smoke 


96  NIAGARA. 

of  guns,  the  sound  of  which  reached  their  ears  in  heavy 
volleys,  or  a  sharp  and  angry  rattle.  Meanwhile  the 
English  cannon  had  ceased  their  fire,  and  the  silent 
trenches  seemed  deserted,  as  if  their  occupants  were 
gone  to  meet  the  advancing  foe.  There  was  a  call  in 
the  fort  for  volunteers  to  sally  and  destroy  the  works ; 
but  no  sooner  did  they  show  themselves  along  the 
covered  way  than  the  seemingly  abandoned  trenches 
were  thronged  with  men  and  bayonets,  and  the  attempt 
was  given  up.  The  distant  firing  lasted  half  an  hour, 
then  ceased,  and  Pouchot  remained  in  suspense ;  till,  at 
two  in  the  afternoon,  a  friendly  Onondaga,  who  had 
passed  unnoticed  through  the  English  lines,  came  to 
him  with  the  announcement  that  the  French  and  their 
allies  had  been  routed  and  cut  to  pieces.  Pouchot  would 
not  believe  him. 

Nevertheless  his  tale  was  true.  Johnson,  besides  his 
Indians,  had  with  him  about  twenty-three  hundred  men, 
whom  he  was  forced  to  divide  into  three  separate  bodies, 
—  one  to  guard  the  bateaux,  one  to  guard  the  trenches, 
and  one  to  fight  Aubry  and  his  band.  This  last  body 
consisted  of  the  provincial  light  infantry  and  the  pickets, 
two  companies  of  grenadiers,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty 
men  of  the  fort}7-sixth  regiment,  all  under  command  of 
Colonel  Massey.  They  took  post  behind  an  abatis  at  a 
place  called  La  Belle  Famille,  and  the  Five  Nation  war 
riors  placed  themselves  on  their  flanks.  These  savages 
had  shown  signs  of  disaffection ;  and  when  the  enemy 
approached,  they  opened  a  parley  with  the  French 
Indians,  which,  however,  soon  ended,  and  both  sides 
raised  the  war-whoop.  The  fight  was  brisk  for  a  while ; 
but  at  last  Aubry's  men  broke  away  in  a  panic.  The 
French  officers  seem  to  have  made  desperate  efforts  to 
retrieve  the  day,  for  nearly  all  of  them  were  killed  or 


SIEGE    OF    FORT    NIAGARA.  97 

captured ;  while  their  followers,  after  heavy  loss,  fled 
to  their  canoes  and  boats  above  the  cataract,  hastened 
back  to  Lake  Erie,  burned  Presquisle,  Le  Boeuf,  and 
Vcnango,  and,  joined  by  the  garrisons  of  those  forts, 
retreated  to  Detroit,  leaving  the  whole  region  of  the 
upper  Ohio  in  undisputed  possession  of  the  English. 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  day  of  the  battle,  after  a  fu 
rious  cannonade  on  both  sides,  a  trumpet  sounded  from 
the  trenches,  and  an  officer  approached  the  fort  with  a 
summons  to  surrender.  He  brought  also  a  paper  con 
taining  the  names  of  the  captive  French  officers,  though 
some  of  them  were  spelled  in  a  way  that  defied  recog 
nition.  Pouchot,  feigning  incredulity,  sent  an  officer 
of  his  own  to  the  English  camp,  who  soon  saw  unan 
swerable  proof  of  the  disaster ;  for  here,  under  a  shelter 
of  leaves  and  boughs  near  the  tent  of  Johnson,  sat  Li- 
gneris,  severely  wounded,  with  Aubry,  Villiers,  Montigny, 
Marin,  and  their  companions  in  misfortune,  —  in  all, 
sixteen  officers,  four  cadets,  and  a  surgeon. 

Pouchot  had  now  no  choice  but  surrender.  By  the 
terms  of  the  capitulation,  the  garrison  were  to  be  sent 
prisoners  to  New  York,  though  honors  of  war  were 
granted  them  in  acknowledgment  of  their  courageous 
conduct.  There  was  a  special  stipulation  that  they 
should  be  protected  from  the  Indians,  of  whom  they 
stood  in  the  greatest  terror,  lest  the  massacre  of  Fort 
William  Henry  should  be  avenged  upon  them.  Johnson 
restrained  his  dangerous  allies,  and,  though  the  fort  was 
pillaged,  no  blood  was  shed. 

The  capture  of  Niagara  was  an  important  stroke. 
Thenceforth  Detroit,  Michillimackinac,  the  Illinois,  and 
all  the  other  French  interior  posts  were  severed  from 
Canada  and  left  in  helpless  isolation.  The  conquest  of 
the  whole  interior  became  only  a  question  of  time. 

7 


MASSACRE   OF  THE  DEVIL'S  HOLE. 

A  FTER  the  conquest  of  Canada,  there  was  a  general 
^~~^-  uprising  of  the  Indian  tribes,  led  by  the  famous 
Pontiac,  against  the  British  forts  and  settlements.  In 
the  war  that  followed,  a  remarkable  incident  took  place 
a  little  way  below  Niagara  Falls. 

The  carrying-place  of  Niagara  formed  an  essential  link 
in  the  chain  of  communication  between  the  province  of 
New  York  and  the  interior  country.  Men  and  military 
stores  were  conveyed  in  boats  up  the  river,  as  far  as  the 
present  site  of  Lewiston.  Thence  a  portage  road,  several 
miles  in  length,  passed  along  the  banks  of  the  stream, 
and  terminated  at  Fort  Schlosser,  above  the  cataract. 
This  road  traversed  a  region  whose  sublime  features 
have  gained  for  it  a  world-wide  renown.  The  River 
Niagara,  a  short  distance  below  the  cataract,  assumes  an 
aspect  scarcely  less  remarkable  than  that  stupendous 
scene  itself.  Its  channel  is  formed  by  a  vast  ravine, 
whose  sides,  now  bare  and  weather-stained,  now  shaggy 
with  forest-trees,  rise  in  cliffs  of  appalling  height  and 
steepness.  Along  this  chasm  pour  all  the  waters  of 
the  lakes,  heaving  their  furious  surges  with  the  power 
of  an  ocean  and  the  rage  of  a  mountain  torrent.  About 
three  miles  below  the  cataract,  the  precipices  which  form 
the  eastern  wall  of  the  ravine  are  broken  by  an  abyss  of 
awful  depth  and  blackness,  bearing  at  the  present  day 
the  name  of  the  Devil's  Hole.  In  its  shallowest  part,  the 


MASSACRE    OF    THE    DEVIL'S    HOLE.  99 

precipice  sinks  sheer  down  to  the  depth  of  eighty  feet, 
where  it  meets  a  chaotic  mass  of  rocks,  descending  with 
an  abrupt  declivity  to  unseen  depths  below.  Within  the 
cold  and  damp  recesses  of  the  gnlf,  a  host  of  forest-trees 
have  rooted  themselves ;  and,  standing  on  the  perilous 
brink,  one  may  look  down  upon  the  mingled  foliage  of 
ash,  poplar,  and  maple,  while,  above  them  all,  the  spruce 
and  fir  shoot  their  sharp  and  rigid  spires  upward  into 
sunlight.  The  roar  of  the  convulsed  river  swells  heav 
ily  on  the  ear,  and,  far  below,  its  headlong  waters  may 
be  discerned  careering  in  foam  past  the  openings  of  the 
matted  foliage. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  September,  1763,  a  numerous 
train  of  wagons  and  pack  horses  proceeded  from  the 
lower  landing  to  Fort  Schlosser,  and  on  the  following 
morning  set  out  on  their  return,  guarded  by  an  escort 
of  twenty-four  soldiers.  They  pursued  their  slow  prog 
ress  until  they  reached  a  point  where  the  road  passed 
along  the  brink  of  the  Devil's  Hole.  The  gulf  yawned 
on  their  left,  while  on  their  right  the  road  was  skirted 
by  low  and  densely  wooded  hills.  Suddenly  they  were 
greeted  by  the  blaze  and  clatter  of  a  hundred  rifles. 
Then  followed  the  startled  cries  of  men,  and  the  bound 
ing  of  maddened  horses.  At  the  next  instant,  a  host  of 
Indians  broke  screeching  from  the  woods,  and  rifle-but 
and  tomahawk  finished  the  bloody  work.  All  was  over 
in  a  moment.  Horses  leaped  the  precipice ;  men  were 
driven  shrieking  into  the  abyss  ;  teams  and  wagons  went 
over,  crashing  to  atoms  among  the  rocks  below.  Tra 
dition  relates  that  the  drummer  boy  of  the  detachment 
was  caught,  in  his  fall,  among  the  branches  of  a  tree, 
where  he  hung  suspended  by  his  drum-strap.  Being 
but  slightly  injured,  he  disengaged  himself,  and,  hiding 
in  the  recesses  of  the  gulf,  finally  escaped.  One  of  the 


100  NIAGARA. 

teamsters  also,  who  was  wounded  at  the  first  fire,  con 
trived  to  crawl  into  the  woods,  where  he  lay  concealed 
till  the  Indians  had  left  the  place.  Besides  these  two, 
the  only  survivor  was  Stedman,  the  conductor  of  the 
convoy,  who,  being  well  mounted,  and  seeing  the  whole 
party  forced  helplessly  towards  the  precipice,  wheeled 
his  horse,  and  resolutely  spurred  through  the  crowd  of 
Indians.  One  of  them,  it  is  said,  seized  his  bridle ;  but 
lie  freed  himself  by  a  dexterous  use  of  his  knife,  and 
plunged  into  the  woods,  untouched  by  the  bullets  which 
whistled  about  his  head.  Flying  at  full  speed  through 
the  forest,  he  reached  Fort  Schlosser  in  safety. 

The  distant  sound  of  the  Indian  rifles  had  been  heard 
by  a  party  of  soldiers,  who  occupied  a  small  fortified 
camp  near  the  lower  landing.  Forming  in  haste,  they 
advanced  eagerly  to  the  rescue.  In  anticipation  of  this 
movement,  the  Indians,  who  were  nearly  five  hundred  in 
number,  had  separated  into  two  parties,  one  of  which 
had  stationed  itself  at  the  Devil's  Hole,  to  waylay  the 
convoy,  while  the  other  formed  an  ambuscade  upon  the 
road  a  mile  nearer  the  landing-place.  The  soldiers, 
marching  precipitately,  and  huddled  in  a  close  body, 
were  suddenly  assailed  by  a  volley  of  rifles,  which 
stretched  half  their  number  dead  upon  the  road.  Then, 
rushing  from  the  forest,  the  Indians  cut  down  the  sur 
vivors  with  merciless  ferocity.  A  small  remnant  only 
escaped  the  massacre,  and  fled  to  Fort  Niagara  with  the 
tidings.  Major  Wilkins,  who  commanded  at  this  post, 
lost  no  time  in  marching  to  the  spot,  with  nearly  the 
whole  strength  of  his  garrison.  Not  an  Indian  was  to 
be  found.  At  the  two  places  of  ambuscade,  about 
seventy  dead  bodies  were  counted,  naked,  scalpless,  and 
so  horribly  mangled  that  many  of  them  could  not  be 
recognized.  All  the  wagons  had  been  broken  to  pieces, 


MASSACRE    OF    THE    DEVIL'S    HOLE.  101 

and  such  of  the  horses  as  were  not  driven  over  the 
precipice  had  been  carried  off,  laden,  doubtless,  with 
the  plunder.  The  ambuscade  of  the  Devil's  Hole  has 
gained  a  traditionary  immortality,  adding  fearful  inter 
est  to  a  scene  whose  native  horrors  need  no  aid  from 
the  imagination. 


MONTREAL. 


THE   BIRTH  OF  MONTREAL. 

WE  come  now  to  an  enterprise  as  singular  in  its 
character  as  it  proved  important  in  its  results. 
At  La  Fleche,  in  Anjou,  dwelt  one  Jerome  le  Royer  de 
la  Dauversiere,  receiver  of  taxes.  His  portrait  shows 
us  a  round,  bourgeois  face,  somewhat  heavy  perhaps, 
decorated  with  a  slight  mustache,  and  redeemed  by 
bright  and  earnest  eyes.  On  his  head  he  wears  a  black 
skull-cap  ;  and  over  his  ample  shoulders  spreads  a  stiff 
white  collar,  of  wide  expanse  and  studious  plainness. 
Though  he  belonged  to  the  noblesse,  his  look  is  that  of 
a  grave  burgher,  of  good  renown  and  sage  deportment. 
Dauversiere  was,  however,  an  enthusiastic  devotee,  of 
mystical  tendencies,  who  whipped  himself  with  a  scourge 
of  small  chains  till  his  shoulders  were  one  wound,  wore 
a  belt  with  more  than  twelve  hundred  sharp  points,  and 
invented  for  himself  other  torments,  which  filled  his 
confessor  with  admiration.  One  day,  while  at  his  devo 
tions,  he  heard  an  inward  voice  commanding  him  to 
become  the  founder  of  a  new  Order  of  hospital  nuns  ; 
and  he  was  further  ordered  to  establish,  on  the  island 
called  Montreal,  in  Canada,  a  hospital,  or  H6tel-Dieu, 
to  be  conducted  by  these  nuns.  But  Montreal  was  a 
wilderness,  and  the  hospital  would  have  no  patients. 
Therefore,  in  order  to  supply  them,  the  island  must  first 
be  colonized.  Dauversiere  was  greatly  perplexed.  On 
the  one  hand,  the  voice  of  Heaven  must  be  obeyed  ; 


106  MONTREAL. 

on  the  other,  he  had  a  wife,  six  children,  and  a  very 
moderate  fortune. 

Again :  there  was  at  Paris  a  young  priest,  about 
twenty-eight  years  of  age,  —  Jean  Jacques  Olier,  after 
wards  widely  known  as  founder  of  the  Seminary  of  St. 
Sulpice.  Judged  by  his  engraved  portrait,  his  counte 
nance,  though  marked  both  with  energy  and  intellect, 
was  anything  but  prepossessing.  Every  lineament  pro 
claims  the  priest.  Yet  the  Abb£  Olier  has  high  titles 
to  esteem.  He  signalized  his  piety,  it  is  true,  by  the 
most  disgusting  exploits  of  self-mortification  ;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  he  was  strenuous  in  his  efforts  to  reform 
the  people  and  the  clergy.  So  zealous  was  he  for  good 
morals,  that  he  drew  upon  himself  the  imputation  of  a 
leaning  to  the  heresy  of  the  Janscnists,  —  a  suspicion 
strengthened  by  his  opposition  to  certain  priests,  who, 
to  secure  the  faithful  in  their  allegiance,  justified  them 
in  lives  of  licentiousness.  Yet  Olier's  catholicity  was 
past  attaintment,  and  in  his  horror  of  Jansenists  he 
yielded  to  the  Jesuits  alone. 

He  was  praying  in  the  ancient  church  of  St.  Germain 
des  Pres,  when,  like  Pauversiere,  he  thought  he  heard 
a  voice  from  Heaven,  saying  that  he  was  destined  to  be 
a  light  to  the  Gentiles.  It  is  recorded  as  a  mystic  coin 
cidence  attending  this  miracle,  that  the  choir  was  at 
that  very  time  chanting  the  words,  Lumen  ad  revela- 
tionem  Gentium;  and  it  seems  to  have  occurred  neither 
to  Olier  nor  to  his  biographer,  that,  falling  on  the  ear 
of  the  rapt  worshipper,  they  might  have  unconsciously 
suggested  the  supposed  revelation.  But  there  was  a 
further  miracle.  An  inward  voice  told  Olier  that  he 
was  to  form  a  society  of  priests,  and  establish  them  on 
the  island  called  Montreal,  in  Canada,  for  the  propa 
gation  of  the  True  Faitli  ;  and  writers  old  and  recent 


THE    BIRTH    OF    MONTREAL.  107 

assert,  that,  while  both  he  and  Dauversiere  were  totally 
ignorant  of  Canadian  geography,  they  suddenly  found 
themselves  in  possession,  they  knew  not  how,  of  the 
most  exact  details  concerning  Montreal,  its  size,  shape, 
situation,  soil,  climate,  and  productions. 

The  annual  volumes  of  the  Jesuit  Relations,  issuing 
from  the  renowned  press  of  Cramoisy,  were  at  this  time 
spread  broadcast  throughout  France  ;  and,  in  the  circles 
of  haute  devotion,  Canada  and  its  missions  were  every 
where  the  themes  of  enthusiastic  discussion ;  while 
Champlain,  in  his  published  works,  had  long  before 
pointed  out  Montreal  as  the  proper  site  for  a  settlement. 
But  we  are  entering  a  region  of  miracle,  and  it  is  super 
fluous  to  look  far  for  explanations.  The  illusion,  in 
these  cases,  is  a  part  of  the  history. 

Dauversiere  pondered  the  revelation  he  had  received  ; 
and  the  more  he  pondered,  the  more  was  he  convinced 
that  it  came  from  God.  He  therefore  set  out  for  Paris, 
to  find  some  means  of  accomplishing  the  task  assigned 
him.  Here,  as  he  prayed  before  an  image  of  the  Virgin 
in  the  church  of  Notre-Daihe,  he  fell  into  an  ecstasy, 
and  beheld  a  vision.  "  I  should  be  false  to  the  integrity 
of  history,"  writes  his  biographer,  "  if  I  did  not  relate 
it  here."  And  he  adds,  that  the  reality  of  this  celestial 
favor  is  past  doubting,  inasmuch  as  Dauversiere  himself 
told  it  to  his  daughters.  Christ,  the  Virgin,  and  St. 
Joseph  appeared  before  him.  He  saw  them  distinctly. 
Then  he  heard  Christ  ask  three  times  of  his  Virgin 
Mother,  Where  can  I  find  a  faithful  servant?  On  which, 
the  Virgin,  taking  him  (Dauversiere)  by  the  hand, 
replied,  See,  Lord,  here  is  that  faithful  servant!  —  and 
Christ,  with  a  benignant  smile,  received  him  into  his  ser 
vice,  promising  to  bestow  on  him  wisdom  and  strength  to 
do  his  work.  From  Paris  he  went  to  the  neighboring 


108  MONTREAL. 

chateau  of  Meudon,  which  overlooks  the  valley  of  the 
Seine,  not  far  from  St.  Cloud.  Entering  the  gallery 
of  the  old  castle,  he  saw  a  priest  approaching  him.  It 
was  Olier.  Now  we  are  told  that  neither  of  these  men 
had  ever  seen  or  heard  of  the  other ;  and  yet,  says  the 
pious  historian,  "  impelled  by  a  kind  of  inspiration,  they 
knew  each  other  at  once,  even  to  the  depths  of  their 
hearts ;  saluted  each  other  by  name,  as  we  read  of  St. 
Paul,  the  Hermit,  and  St.  Anthony,  and  of  St.  Dominic 
and  St.  Francis ;  and  ran  to  embrace  each  other,  like 
two  friends  who  had  met  after  a  long  separation." 

"  Monsieur,"  exclaimed  Olier,  "  I  know  your  design, 
and  I  go  to  commend  it  to  God  at  the  holy  altar." 

And  he  went  at  once  to  say  mass  in  the  chapel. 
Dauversiere  received  the  communion  at  his  hands ;  and 
then  they  walked  for  three  hours  in  the  park,  discussing 
their  plans.  They  were  of  one  mind,  in  respect  both  to 
objects  and  means;  and  when  they  parted,  Olier  gave 
Dauversiere  a  hundred  louis,  saying,  "  This  is  to  begin 
the  work  of  God." 

They  proposed  to  found  at  Montreal  three  religious 
communities,  —  three  being  the  mystic  number,  —  one 
of  secular  priests  to  direct  the  colonists  and  convert  the 
Indians,  one  of  nuns  to  nurse  the  sick,  and  one  of  nuns 
to  teacli  the  Faith  to  the  children,  white  and  red.  To 
borrow  their  own  phrases,  they  would  plant  the  banner 
of  Christ  in  an  abode  of  desolation  and  a  haunt  of 
demons ;  and  to  this  end  a  band  of  priests  and  women 
were  to  invade  the  wilderness,  and  take  post  between 
the  fangs  of  the  Iroquois.  But  first  they  must  make 
a  colony,  and  to  do  so  must  raise  money.  Olier  had 
pious  and  wealthy  penitents ;  Dauversiere  had  a  friend, 
the  Baron  de  Fancamp,  devout  as  himself  and  far  richer. 
Anxious  for  his  soul,  and  satisfied  that  the  enterprise 


THE    BIRTH    OF   MONTREAL.  109 

was  an  inspiration  of  God,  he  was  eager  to  bear  part  in 
it.  Olier  soon  found  three  others ;  and  the  six  together 
formed  the  gerni  of  the  Society  of  Notre-Dame  de  Mon 
treal.  Among  them  they  raised  the  sum  of  seventy-five 
thousand  livres,  equivalent  to  about  as  many  dollars  at 
the  present  day. 

Now  to  look  for  a  moment  at  their  plan.  Their 
eulogists  say,  and  with  perfect  truth,  that,  from  a 
worldly  point  of  view,  it  was  mere  folly.  The  partners 
mutually  bound  themselves  to  seek  no  return  for  the 
money  expended.  Their  profit  was  to  be  reaped  in  the 
skies:  and,  indeed,  there  was  none  to  be  reaped  on 
earth.  The  feeble  settlement  at  Quebec  was  at  this 
time  in  danger  of  utter  ruin ;  for  the  Iroquois,  enraged 
at  the  attacks  made  on  them  by  Champlain,  had  begun 
a  fearful  course  of  retaliation,  and  the  very  existence  of 
the  colony  trembled  in  the  balance.  But  if  Quebec  was 
exposed  to  their  ferocious  inroads,  Montreal  was  in 
comparably  more  so.  A  settlement  here  would  be  a 
perilous  outpost,  —  a  hand  thrust  into  the  jaws  of  the 
tiger.  It  would  provoke  attack,  and  lie  almost  in  the 
path  of  the  war-parties.  The  Associates  could  gain  noth 
ing  by  the  fur-trade ;  for  they  would  not  be  allowed  to 
share"  in  it.  On  the  other  hand,  danger  apart,  the  place 
was  an  excellent  one  for  a  mission ;  for  here  met  two 
great  rivers :  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  its  countless  trib 
utaries,  flowed  in  from  the  west,  while  the  Ottawa  de 
scended  from  the  north;  and  Montreal,  embraced  by 
their  uniting  waters,  was  the  key  to  a  vast  inland  navi 
gation.  Thither  the  Indians  would  naturally  resort; 
and  thence  the  missionaries  could  make  their  way  into 
the  heart  of  a  boundless  heathendom.  None  of  the  ordi 
nary  motives  of  colonization  had  part  in  this  design.  It 
owed  its  conception  and  its  birth  to  religious  zeal  alone. 


110  MONTREAL. 

The  island  of  Montreal  belonged  to  Lauson,  former 
president  of  the  great  company  of  the  Hundred  Associ 
ates ;  and  his  son  had  a  monopoly  of  fishing  in  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Dauversiere  and  Fancamp,  after  much 
diplomacy,  succeeded  in  persuading  the  elder  Lauson  to 
transfer  his  title  to  them ;  and,  as  there  Avas  a  defect  in 
it,  they  also  obtained  a  grant  of  the  island  from  the 
Hundred  Associates,  its  original  owners,  who,  however, 
reserved  to  themselves  its  western  extremity  as  a  site 
for  a  fort  and  storehouses.  At  the  same  time,  the 
younger  Lauson  granted  them  a  right  of  fishery  within 
two  leagues  of  the  shores  of  the  island,  for  which  they 
were  to  make  a  yearly  acknowledgment  of  ten  pounds 
of  fish.  A  confirmation  of  these  grants  was  obtained 
from  the  King.  Dauversiere  and  his  companions  were 
now  seigneurs  of  Montreal.  They  were  empowered  to 
appoint  a  governor,  and  to  establish  courts,  from  which 
there  was  to  be  an  appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  of 
Quebec,  supposing  such  to  exist.  They  were  excluded 
from  the  fur-trade,  and  forbidden  to  build  castles  or  forts 
other  than  such  as  were  necessary  for  defence  against 
the  Indians. 

Their  title  assured,  they  matured  their  plan.  First 
they  would  send  out  forty  men  to  take  possession  of 
Montreal,  intrench  themselves,  and  raise  crops.  Then 
they  would  build  a  house  for  the  priests,  and  two  con 
vents  for  the  nuns.  Meanwhile,  Olier  was  toiling  at 
Yaugirard,  on  the  outskirts  of  Paris,  to  inaugurate  the 
seminary  of  priests,  and  Dauversiere  at  La  Fleche,  to 
form  the  community  of  hospital  nuns.  How  the  school 
nuns  were  provided  for  we  shall  see  hereafter.  The 
colony,  it  will  be  observed,  was  for  the  convents,  not  the 
convents  for  the  colony. 

The   Associates    needed    a    soldier-governor   to    take 


THE    J31KTH    OF    MONTREAL.  Ill 

charge  of  their  forty  men;  and,  directed  as  they  sup 
posed  by  Providence,  they  found  one  wholly  to  their 
mind.  This  was  Paul  de  Chomedey,  Sieur  dc  Maison- 
neuve,  a  devout  and  valiant  gentleman,  who  in  long 
service  among  the  heretics  of  Holland  had  kept  his 
faith  intact,  and  had  held  himself  resolutely  aloof  from 
the  license  that  surrounded  him.  He  loved  his  profes 
sion  of  arms,  and  wished  to  consecrate  his  sword  to  the 
Church.  Past  all  comparison,  he  is  the  manliest  figure 
that  appears  in  this  group  of  zealots.  The  piety  of  the 
design,  the  miracles  that  inspired  it,  the  adventure  and 
the  peril,  all  combined  to  charm  him  ;  and  he  eagerly  em 
braced  the  enterprise.  His  father  opposed  his  purpose  ; 
but  he  met  him  with  a  text  of  St.  Mark,  "  There  is  no 
man  that  hath  left  house  or  brethren  or  sisters  or  father 
for  my  sake,  but  he  shall  receive  an  hundred-fold."  On 
this  the  elder  Maisonneuve,  deceived  by  his  own  world- 
liness,  imagined  that  the  plan  covered  some  hidden 
speculation,  from  which  enormous  profits  were  expected, 
and  therefore  withdrew  his  opposition. 

Their  scheme  was  ripening  fast,  when  both  Olier  and 
Dauversiere  were  assailed  by  one  of  those  revulsions  of 
spirit,  to  which  saints  of  the  ecstatic  school  are  natu 
rally  liable.  Dauversiere,  in  particular,  Avas  a  prey  to 
the  extremity  of  dejection,  uncertainty,  and  misgiving. 
What  had  he,  a  family  man,  to  do  with  ventures  beyond 
sea?  Was  it  not  his  first  duty  to  support  his  wife  and 
children  ?  Could  he  not  fulfil  all  his  obligations  as  a 
Christian  by  reclaiming  the  wicked  and  relieving  the 
poor  at  La  Fleche  ?  Plainly,  he  had  doubts  that  his 
vocation  was  genuine.  If  we  could  raise  the  curtain  of 
his  domestic  life,  perhaps  we  should  find  him  beset  by 
wife  and  daughters,  tearful  and  wrathful,  inveighing 
against  his  folly,  and  imploring  him  to  provide  a  sup- 


112  MONTREAL. 

port  for  them  before  squandering  his  money  to  plant  a 
convent  of  nuns  in  a  wilderness.  How  long  his  fit  of 
dejection  lasted  does  not  appear;  but  at  length  he  set 
himself  again  to  his  appointed  work.  Olier,  too,  emerg 
ing  from  the  clouds  and  darkness,  found  faith  once 
more,  and  again  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  great 
enterprise. 

There  was  imperative  need  of  more  money ;  and  Dau- 
versiere,  under  judicious  guidance,  was  active  in  obtain 
ing  it.  This  miserable  victim  of  illusions  had  a  squat, 
uncourtly  figure,  and  was  no  proficient  in  the  graces 
either  of  manners  or  of  speech :  hence  his  success  in 
commending  his  objects  to  persons  of  rank  and  wealth 
is  set  down  as  one  of  the  many  miracles  which  attended 
the  birth  of  Montreal.  But  zeal  and  earnestness  are 
in  themselves  a  power ;  and  the  ground  had  been  well 
marked  out  and  ploughed  for  him  in  advance.  That 
attractive,  though  intricate,  subject  of  study,  the  female 
mind,  has  always  engaged  the  attention  of  priests,  more 
especially  in  countries  where  as  in  France,  women  exert 
a  strong  social  and  political  influence.  The  art  of  kin 
dling  the  flames  of  zeal,  and  the  more  difficult  art  of 
directing  and  controlling  them,  have  been  themes  of  re 
flection  the  most  diligent  and  profound.  Accordingly 
we  find  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  money  raised  for 
this  enterprise  was  contributed  by  devout  ladies.  Many 
of  them  became  members  of  the  Association  of  Mon 
treal,  which  was  eventually  increased  to  about  forty-five 
persons,  chosen  for  their  devotion  and  their  wealth. 

Olier  and  his  associates  had  resolved,  though  not  from 
any  collapse  of  zeal,  to  postpone  the  establishment  of 
the  seminary  and  the  college  until  after  a  settlement 
should  be  formed.  The  hospital,  however,  might,  they 
thought,  be  begun  at  onc.e ;  for  blood  and  blows  would 


TPIE    BIRTH    OF    MONTREAL.  113 

be  the  assured  portion  of  the  first  settlers,  At  least,  a 
discreet  woman  ought  to  embark  with  the  first  colonists 
as  their  nurse  and  housekeeper.  Scarcely  was  the  need 
recognized  when  it  was  supplied. 

Mademoiselle  Jeanne  Mance  was  born  of  an  honorable 
family  of  Nogent-le-Roi,  and  in  1G40  was  thirty-four 
years  of  age.  These  Canadian  heroines  began  their  re 
ligious  experiences  early.  Of  Marie  de  Plncarnation  we 
read,  that  at  the  age  of  seven  Christ  appeared  to  her 
in  a  vision ;  and  the  biographer  of  Mademoiselle  Mancc 
assures  us,  with  admiring  gravity,  that,  at  the  same  ten 
der  age,  she  bound  herself  to  God  by  a  vow  of  perpetual 
chastity.  This  singular  infant  in  due  time  became  a 
woman,  of  a  delicate  constitution,  and  manners  graceful, 
yet  dignified.  Though  an  earnest  devotee,  she  felt  no 
vocation  for  the  cloister ;  yet,  while  still  "  in  the  world," 
she  led  the  life  of  a  nun.  The  Jesuit  Relations,  and  the 
example  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  of  whom  she  had 
heard,  inoculated  her  with  the  Canadian  enthusiasm, 
then  so  prevalent ;  and,  under  the  pretence  of  visiting- 
relatives,  she  made  a  journey  to  Paris,  to  take  counsel 
of  certain  priests.  Of  one  thing  she  was  assured :  the 
Divine  will  called  her  to  Canada,  but  to  what  end  she 
neither  knew  nor  asked  to  know ;  for  she  abandoned 
herself  as  an  atom  to  be  borne  to  unknown  destinies  on 
the  breath  of  God.  At  Paris,  Father  St.  Jure,  a  Jesuit, 
assured  her  that  her  vocation  to  Canada  was,  past 
doubt,  a  call  from  Heaven ;  while  Father  Rapin,  a  Re- 
collet,  spread  abroad  the  fame  of  her  virtues,  and  intro 
duced  her  to  many  ladies  of  rank,  wealth,  and  zeal. 
Then,  well  supplied  with  money  for  any  pious  work  to 
which  she  might  be  summoned,  she  journeyed  to  Ro- 
chelle,  whence  ships  were  to  sail  for  New  France.  Thus 
far  she  had  been  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  plan  with 

8 


114  MONTREAL 

regard  to  Montreal ;  but  now  Father  La  Place,  a  Jesuit, 
revealed  it  to  her.  On  the  day  after  her  arrival  at 
Rochelle,  as  she  entered  the  Church  of  the  Jesuits,  she 
met  Dauversiere  coming  out.  "  Then,"  says  her  biogra 
pher,  "  these  two  persons,  who  had  never  seen  nor  heard 
of  each  other,  Avere  enlightened  supernaturally,  whereby 
their  most  hidden  thoughts  were  mutually  made  known, 
as  had  happened  already  with  M.  Olier  and  this  same  M. 
de  la  Dauversiere."  A  long  conversation  ensued  between 
them ;  and  the  delights  of  this  interview  were  never 
effaced  from  the  mind  of  Mademoiselle  Mance.  "  She 
used  to  speak  of  it  like  a  seraph,"  writes  one  of  her 
nuns,  "  and  far  better  than  many  a  learned  doctor  could 
have  done." 

She  had  found  her  destiny.  The  ocean,  the  wilder 
ness,  the  solitude,  the  Iroquois,  —  nothing  daunted  her. 
She  would  go  to  Montreal  with  Maisonneuve  and  his 
forty  men.  Yet,  when  the  vessel  was  about  to  sail,  a 
new  and  sharp  misgiving  seized  her  How  could  she,  a 
woman,  not  yet  bereft  of  youth  or  charms,  live  alone 
in  the  forest,  among  a  troop  of  soldiers  ?  Her  scruples 
were  relieved  by  two  of  the  men,  who,  at  the  last  mo 
ment,  refused  to  embark  without  their  wives,  —  and  by 
a  young  woman,  who,  impelled  by  enthusiasm,  escaped 
from  her  friends,  and  took  passage,  in  spite  of  them,  in 
one  of  the  vessels. 

All  was  ready ;  the  ships  set  sail ;  but  Olier,  Dauver 
siere,  and  Fancamp  remained  at  home,  as  did  also  the 
other  Associates,  with  the  exception  of  Maisonneuve 
and  Mademoiselle  Mance.  In  the  following  February, 
an  impressive  scene  took  place  in  the  Church  of  Notre- 
Dame,  at  Paris.  The  Associates,  at  this  time  number 
ing  about  forty -five,  with  Olier  at  their  head,  assembled 
before  the  altar  of  the  Virgin,  and,  by  a  solemn  ceremo- 


THE    BIRTH    OF   MONTREAL.  115 

nial,  consecrated  Montreal  to  the  Holy  Family.  Hence 
forth  it  was  to  be  called  Villemarie  de  Montreal,  —  a 
sacred  town,  reared  to  the  honor  and  under  the  patron 
age  of  Christ,  St.  Joseph,  and  the  Virgin,  to  be  typified 
by  three  persons  on  earth,  founders  respectively  of  the 
three  destined  communities,  —  Olier,  Dauversiere,  and 
a  maiden  of  Troves,  Marguerite  Bourgeoys :  the  semi 
nary  to  be  consecrated  to  Christ,  the  Hotel-Dieu  to  St. 
Joseph,  and  the  college  to  the  Virgin. 

But  we  are  anticipating  a  little  ;  for  it  was  several 
years  as  yet  before  Marguerite  Bourgeoys  took  an  active 
part  in  the  work  of  Montreal.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
a  respectable  tradesman,  and  was  now  twenty-two  years 
of  age.  Her  portrait  has  come  down  to  us ;  and  her 
face  is  a  mirror  of  loyalty  and  womanly  tenderness. 
Her  qualities  were  those  of  good  sense,  conscientious 
ness,  and  a  warm  heart.  She  had  known  no  miracles, 
ecstasies,  or  trances ;  and  though  afterwards,  when  her 
religious  susceptibilities  had  reached  a  fuller  develop 
ment,  a  few  such  are  recorded  of  her,  yet  even  the  Abbe 
Faillon,  with  the  best  intentions,  can  credit  her  with  but 
a  meagre  allowance  of  these  celestial  favors.  Though 
in  the  midst  of  visionaries,  she  distrusted  the  super 
natural,  and  avowed  her  belief,  that,  in  His  government 
of  the  world,  God  does  not  often  set  aside  its  ordinary 
laws.  Her  religion  was  of  the  affections,  and  was  mani 
fested  in  an  absorbing  devotion  to  duty.  She  had  felt 
no  vocation  to  the  cloister,  but  had  taken  the  vow  of 
chastity,  and  was  attached,  as  an  externe,  to  the  Sisters 
of  the  Congregation  of  Troves,  who  were  fevered  with 
eagerness  to  go  to  Canada.  Marguerite,  however,  was 
content  to  wait  until  there  was  a  prospect  that  she  could 
do  good  by  going;  and  it  was  not  till  the  year  1653,  that, 
renouncing  an  inheritance,  and  giving  all  she  had  to  the 


116  MONTREAL. 

poor,  she  embarked  for  the  savage  scene  of  her  labors. 
To  this  day,  in  crowded  school-rooms  of  Montreal  and 
Quebec,  lit  monuments  of  her  unobtrusive  virtue,  her 
successors  instruct  the  children  of  the  poor,  and  embalm 
the  pleasant  memory  of  Marguerite  Bourgeoys.  In  the 
martial  figure  of  Maisonneuve,  and  the  fair  form  of  this 
gentle  nun,  we  find  the  true  heroes  of  Montreal. 

Maisonneuve,  with  his  forty  men  and  four  women, 
reached  Quebec  too  late  to  ascend  to  Montreal  that 
season.  They  encountered  distrust,  jealousy,  and  oppo 
sition.  The  agents  of  the  Company  of  the  Hundred 
Associates  looked  on  them  askance ;  and  the  Governor 
of  Quebec,  Montmagny,  saw  a  rival  governor  in  Maison 
neuve.  Every  means  was  used  to  persuade  the  advent 
urers  to  abandon  their  project,  and  settle  at  Quebec. 
Montmagny  called  a  council  of  the  principal  persons  of 
his  colony,  who  gave  it  as  their  opinion  that  the  new 
comers  had  better  exchange  Montreal  for  the  Island  of 
Orleans,  where  they  would  be  in  a  position  to  give  and 
receive  succor  ;  while,  by  persisting  in  their  first  design, 
they  would  expose  themselves  to  destruction,  and  be  of 
use  to  nobody.  Maisonneuve,  who  was  present,  expressed 
his  surprise  that  they  should  assume  to  direct  his  affairs. 
"I  have  not  come  here,"  he  said,  u  to  deliberate,  but 
to  act.  It  is  my  duty  and  my  honor  to  found  a  col 
ony  at  Montreal ;  and  I  would  go,  if  every  tree  were  an 
Iroquois ! " 

At  Quebec  there  was  little  ability  and  no  inclination 
to  shelter  the  new  colonists  for  the  winter;  and  they 
would  have  fared  ill,  but  for  the  generosity  of  M.  Pui- 
seaux,  who  lived  not  far  distant,  at  a  place  called  St. 
Michel.  This  devout  nnd  most  hospitable  person  made 
room  for  them  all  in  his  rough,  but  capacious  dwelling. 
Their  neighbors  were  the  hospital  nuns,  then  living  at 


THE    BIRTH    OF    MONTREAL.  117 

the  mission  of  Sillcry,  in  a  substantial,  but  comfortless 
house  of  stone ;  where,  amidst  destitution,  sickness,  and 
irrepressible  disgust  at  the  filth  of  the  savages  whom 
they  had  in  charge,  they  were  laboring  day  and  night 
with  devoted  assiduity.  Among  the  minor  ills  which 
beset  them  were  the  eccentricities  of  one  of  their  lay 
sisters,  crazed  with  religious  enthusiasm,  who  had  the 
care  of  their  poultry  and  domestic  animals,  of  which 
she  was  accustomed  to  inquire,  one  by  one,  if  they  loved 
God  ;  when,  not  receiving  an  immediate  answer  in  the 
affirmative,  she  would  instantly  put  them  to  death, 
telling  them  that  their  impiety  deserved  no  better 
fate. 

Early  in  May,  Maisonneuve  and  his  followers  em 
barked.  They  had  gained  an  unexpected  recruit  during 
the  winter,  in  the  person  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie, 
foundress  of  the  Ursulines  of  Quebec.  The  piety,  the 
novelty,  and  the  romance  of  their  enterprise,  all  had 
their  charms  for  the  fair  enthusiast ;  and  an  irresisti 
ble  impulse  —  imputed  by  a  slandering  historian  to  the 
levity  of  her  sex  —  urged  her  to  share  their  fortunes. 
Her  zeal  was  more  admired  by  the  Montrealists  whom 
she  joined  than  by  the  Ursulines  whom  she  abandoned. 
She  carried  off  all  the  furniture  she  had  lent  them, 
and  left  them  in  the  utmost  destitution.  Nor  did  she 
remain  quiet  after  reaching  Montreal,  but  was  presently 
seized  with  a  longing  to  visit  the  Hurons,  and  preach 
the  Faith  in  person  to  those  benighted  heathen.  It 
needed  all  the  eloquence  of  a  Jesuit,  lately  returned 
from  that  most  arduous  mission,  to  convince  her  that 
the  attempt  would  be  as  useless  as  rash. 

It  was  the  eighth  of  May  when  Maisonneuve  and 
his  followers  embarked  at  St.  Michel ;  and  as  the  boats, 
deep-laden  with  men,  arms,  and  stores,  moved  slowly  on 


118  MONTREAL. 

their  way,  the  forest,  with  leaves  just  opening  in  the 
warmth  of  spring,  lay  on  their  right  hand  and  on  their 
left,  in  a  flattering  semblance  of  tranquillity  and  peace. 
But  behind  woody  islets,  in  tangled  thickets  and  damp 
ravines,  and  in  the  shade  and  stillness  of  the  columned 
woods,  lurked  everywhere  a  danger  and  a  terror. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  May,  1642,  Maisonneuve's  little 
flotilla  —  a  pinnace,  a  flat-bottomed  craft  moved  by  sails, 
and  two  row-boats  —  approached  Montreal;  and  all  on 
board  raised  in  unison  a  hymn  of  praise.  Montmagny 
was  with  them,  to  deliver  the  island,  in  behalf  of  the 
Company  of  the  Hundred  Associates,  to  Maisonneuve, 
representative  of  the  Associates  of  Montreal.  And  here, 
too,  was  Father  Yimont,  Superior  of  the  missions ;  for 
the  Jesuits  had  been  prudently  invited  to  accept  the 
spiritual  charge  of  the  young  colony.  On  the  following 
day,  they  glided  along  the  green  and  solitary  shores  now 
thronged  with  the  life  of  a  busy  city,  and  landed  on  the 
spot  which  Champlain,  thirty-one  years  before,  had 
chosen  as  the  fit  site  of  a  settlement.  It  was  a  tongue 
or  triangle  of  land,  formed  by  the  junction  of  a  rivulet 
with  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  known  afterwards  as  Point 
Calliere.  The  rivulet  was  bordered  by  a  meadow,  and 
beyond  rose  the  forest  with  its  vanguard  of  scattered 
trees.  Early  spring  flowers  were  blooming  in  the  young 
grass,  and  birds  of  varied  plumage  flitted  among  the 
boughs. 

Maisonneuve  sprang  ashore,  and  fell  on  his  knees. 
His  followers  imitated  his  example  ;  and  all  joined  their 
voices  in  enthusiastic  songs  of  thanksgiving.  Tents, 
baggage,  arms,  and  stores  were  landed.  An  altar  was 
raised  on  a  pleasant  spot  near  at  hand ;  and  Mademoi 
selle  Mance,  with  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  aided  by  her 
servant,  Charlotte  Barre,  decorated  it  with  a  taste  which 


THE   BIRTH    OF   MONTREAL.  119 

was  the  admiration  of  the  beholders.  Now  all  the  com 
pany  gathered  before  the  shrine.  Here  stood  Vimont, 
in  the  rich  vestments  of  his  office.  Here  were  the  two 
ladies,  with  their  servant ;  Montmagny,  no  very  willing 
spectator ;  and  Maisonneuve,  a  warlike  figure,  erect  and 
tall,  his  men  clustering  around  him,  —  soldiers,  sailors, 
artisans,  and  laborers, —  all  alike  soldiers  at  need.  They 
kneeled  in  reverent  silence  as  the  Host  was  raised  aloft ; 
and  when  the  rite  was  over,  the  priest  turned  and 
addressed  them :  - 

"  You  are  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  that  shall  rise  and 
grow  till  its  branches  overshadow  the  earth.  You  are 
few,  but  your  work  is  the  work  of  God.  His  smile  is  on 
you,  and  your  children  shall  fill  the  land." 

The  afternoon  waned ;  the  sun  sank  behind  the  west 
ern  forest,  and  twilight  came  on.  Fireflies  were  twin 
kling  over  the  darkened  meadow.  They  caught  them, 
tied  them  with  threads  into  shining  festoons,  and  hung 
them  before  the  altar,  where  the  Host  remained  exposed. 
Then  they  pitched  their  tents,  lighted  their  bivouac  fires, 
stationed  their  guards,  and  lay  down  to  rest.  Such  was 
the  birth-night  of  Montreal. 

Is  this  true  history,  or  a  romance  of  Christian  chivalry  ? 
It  is  both. 

A  few  years  later  there  was  another  emigration  to 
Montreal,  of  a  character  much  like  the  first.  The  pious 
little  colony  led  a  struggling  and  precarious  existence. 
Many  of  its  inhabitants  were  killed  by  the  Iroquois,  and 
its  escape  from  destruction  was  imputed  to  the  interven 
tion  of  the  Holy  Virgin.  The  place  changed  as  years 
went  on,  and  became  a  great  centre  of  the  fur  trade, 
though  still  bearing  strong  marks  of  its  pristine  charac 
ter.  The  institutions  of  religion  and  charity  planted 
by  its  founders  remain  to  this  day,  and  the  Seminary 


120  MONTREAL. 

of  St.  Sulpice  holds  vast  possessions  in  and  around 
the  city.  During  the  war  of  1755-1760,  Montreal 
was  a  base  of  military  operations.  In  the  latter  year 
three  English  armies  advanced  upon  it  from  three 
different  points,  united  before  its  walls,  and  forced 
Governor  Vaudreuil  to  surrender  all  Canada  to  the 
British  Crown. 


QUEBEC. 


INFANCY  OF   QUEBEC. 

/CHAMPLAIN  was  the  founder  of  this  old  capital  of 
^^  French  Canada,  whose  existence  began  in  1608. 
In  that  year  he  built  a  cluster  of  fortified  dwellings  and 
storehouses,  which  he  called  "  The  Habitation  of  Que 
bec,"  and  which  stood  011  or  near  the  site  of  the  market 
place  of  the  Lower  Town. 

The  settlement  made  little  progress  for  many  years. 
A  company  of  merchants  held  the  monopoly  of  its  fur- 
trade,  by  which  alone  it  lived.  It  was  half  trading- 
factory,  half  mission.  Its  permanent  inmates  did  not 
exceed  fifty  or  sixty  persons,  —  fur-traders,  friars,  and 
two  or  three  wretched  families,  who  had  no  inducement 
and  little  wish  to  labor.  The  fort  is  facetiously  repre 
sented  as  having  two  old  women  for  garrison,  and  a 
brace  of  hens  for  sentinels.  All  was  discord  and  dis 
order.  Champlain  was  the  nominal  commander ;  but 
the  actual  authority  was  with  the  merchants,  who  held, 
excepting  the  friars,  nearly  every  one  in  their  pay. 
Each  was  jealous  of  the  other,  but  all  were  united  in 
a  common  jealousy  of  Champlain.  From  a  short-sighted 
view  of  self-interest,  they  sought  to  check  the  coloniza 
tion  which  they  were  pledged  to  promote.  The  few 
families  whom  they  brought  over  were  forbidden  to 
trade  with  the  Indians,  and  compelled  to  sell  the  fruits 
of  their  labor  to  the  agents  of  the  company  at  a  low, 
fixed  price,  receiving  goods  in  return  at  an  inordinate 


124  QUEBEC. 

valuation.  Some  of  the  merchants  were  of  Rouen,  some 
of  St.  Malo  ;  some  were  Catholics,  some  were  Huguenots. 
Hence  unceasing  bickerings.  All  exercise  of  the  Re 
formed  Religion,  on  land  or  water,  was  prohibited  within 
the  limits  of  New  France ;  but  the  Huguenots  set  the 
prohibition  at  nought,  roaring  their  heretical  psalmody 
with  such  vigor  from  their  ships  in  the  river,  that  the 
unhallowed  strains  polluted  the  ears  of  the  Indians  on 
shore.  The  merchants  of  Rochellc,  who  had  refused  to 
join  the  company,  carried  on  a  bold,  illicit  traffic  along 
the  borders  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  eluding  pursuit,  or,  if 
hard  pressed,  showing  fight ;  and  this  was  a  source  of 
perpetual  irritation  to  the  incensed  monopolists. 

Champlain,  in  his  singularly  trying  position,  displayed 
a  mingled  zeal  and  fortitude.  He  went  every  year  to 
France,  laboring  for  the  interests  of  the  colony.  To 
throw  open  the  trade  to  all  competitors  was  a  measure 
beyond  the  wisdom  of  the  times ;  and  he  aimed  only  so 
to  bind  and  regulate  the  monopoly  as  to  make  it  sub 
serve  the  generous  purpose  to  which  he  had  given  him 
self.  He  had  succeeded  in  binding  the  company  of 
merchants  with  new  and  more  stringent  engagements ; 
and,  in  the  vain  belief  that  these  might  not  be  wholly 
broken,  he  began  to  conceive  fresh  hopes  for  the  colony. 
In  this  faith  he  embarked  with  his  Avife  for  Quebec  in 
the  spring  of  1620;  and,  as  the  boat  drew  near  the 
landing,  the  cannon  welcomed  her  to  the  rock  of  her 
banishment.  The  buildings  were  falling  to  ruin  ;  rain 
entered  on  all  sides  ;  the  court-yard,  says  Champlain, 
was  as  squalid  and  dilapidated  as  a  grange  pillaged  by 
soldiers.  Madame  do  Champlain  was  still  very  young. 
If  the  Ursuline  tradition  is  to  be  trusted,  the  Indians, 
amazed  at  her  beauty  and  touched  by  her  gentleness, 
would  have  worshipped  her  as  a  divinity.  Her  husband 


INFANCY    OF    QUEBEC.  125 

had  married  her  at  the  age  of  twelve ;  when,  to  his 
horror,  he  presently  discovered  that  she  was  infected 
with  the  heresies  of  her  father,  a  disguised  Huguenot. 
He  addressed  himself  at  once  to  her  conversion,  and  his 
pious  efforts  were  something  more  than  successful.  Dur 
ing  the  four  years  which  she  passed  in  Canada,  her  zeal, 
it  is  true,  was  chiefly  exercised  in  admonishing  Indian 
squaws  and  catechising  their  children;  but,  on  her  re 
turn  to  France,  nothing  would  content  her  but  to  become 
a  nun.  Champlain  refused  ;  but,  as  she  was  childless, 
he  at  length  consented  to  a  virtual,  though  not  formal, 
separation.  After  his  death  she  gained  her  wish,  be 
came  an  Ursuline  nun,  founded  a  convent  of  that  order 
at  Meaux,  and  died  with  a  reputation  almost  saintly. 

A  stranger  visiting  the  fort  of  Quebec  would  have 
been  astonished  at  its  air  of  conventual  decorum.  Black 
Jesuits  and  scarfed  officers  mingled  at  Champlain' s 
table.  There  was  little  conversation,  but,  in  its  place, 
histories  and  the  lives  of  saints  were  read  aloud,  as  in 
a  monastic  refectory.  Prayers,  masses,  and  confessions 
followed  each  other  with  an  edifying  regularity,  and  the 
bell  of  the  adjacent  chapel,  built  by  Champlain,  rang 
morning,  noon,  and  night.  Godless  soldiers  caught  the 
infection,  and  whipped  themselves  in  penance  for  their 
sins.  Debauched  artisans  outdid  each  other  in  the  fury 
of  their  contrition.  Quebec  was  become  a  Mission. 
Indians  gathered  thither  as  of  old,  not  from  the  baneful 
lure  of  brandy,  for  the  traffic  in  it  was  no  longer  tol 
erated,  but  from  the  less  pernicious  attractions  of  gifts, 
kind  words,  and  politic  blandishments.  To  the  vital 
principle  of  propagandism  the  commercial  and  the  mili 
tary  character  were  subordinated ;  or,  to  speak  more 
justly,  trade,  policy,  and  military  power  leaned  on  the 
missions  as  their  main  support,  the  grand  instrument  of 


126  QUEBEC. 

their  extension.  The  missions  were  to  explore  the 
interior;  the  missions  were  to  win  over  the  savage 
hordes  at  once  to  Heaven  and  to  France. 

Years  passed.  The  mission  of  the  Hurons  was  es 
tablished,  and  here  the  indomitable  Brdbeuf,  with  a  band 
worthy  of  him,  toiled  amid  miseries  and  perils  as  fearful 
as  ever  shook  the  constancy  of  man  ;  while  Champlain 
at  Quebec,  in  a  life  uneventful,  yet  harassing  and  labori 
ous,  was  busied  in  the  round  of  cares  which  his  post 
involved. 

Christmas  day,  1635,  was  a  dark  day  in  the  annals  of 
New  France.  In  a  chamber  of  the  fort,  breathless  and 
cold,  lay  the  hardy  frame  which  war,  the  wilderness,  and 
the  sea  had  buffeted  so  long  in  vain.  After  two  months 
and  a  half  of  illness,  Champlain,  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight, 
was  dead.  His  last  cares  were  for  his  colony  and  the 
succor  of  its  suffering  families.  Jesuits,  officers,  sol 
diers,  traders,  and  the  few  settlers  of  Quebec  followed 
his  remains  to  the  church ;  Le  Jeune  pronounced  his 
eulogy,  and  the  feeble  community  built  a  toinb  to  his 
honor. 

The  colony  could  ill  spare  him.  For  twenty-seven 
years  he  had  labored  hard  and  ceaselessly  for  its  welfare, 
sacrificing  fortune,  repose,  and  domestic  peace  to  a  cause 
embraced  with  enthusiasm  and  pursued  with  intrepid 
persistency.  His  character  belonged  partly  to  the  past, 
partly  to  the  present.  The  preux  chevalier,  the  crusader, 
the  romance-loving  explorer,  the  curious,  knowledge- 
seeking  traveller,  the  practical  navigator,  all  claimed 
their  share  in  him.  His  views,  though  far  beyond  those 
of  the  mean  spirits  around  him,  belonged  to  his  age  and 
his  creed.  He  was  less  statesman  than  soldier.  He 
leaned  to  the  most  direct  and  boldest  policy,  and  one 
of  his  last  acts  was  to  petition  Richelieu  for  men  and 


INFANCY  OF  QUEBEC. 


127 


munitions  for  repressing  that  standing  menace  to  the 
colony,  the  Iroquois.  His  dauntless  courage  was  matched 
by  an  unwearied  patience,  a  patiencp  proved  by  life-long 
vexations,  and  not  wholly  subdued  even  by  the  saintly 
follies  of  his  wife.  He  is  charged  with  credulity,  from 
which  few  of  his  age  were  free,  and  which  in  all  ages 
has  been  the  foible  of  earnest  and  generous  natures,  too 
ardent  to  criticise,  and  too  honorable  to  doubt  the  honor 
of  others.  Perhaps  in  his  later  years  the  heretic  might 
like  him  more  had  the  Jesuit  liked  him  less.  The 
adventurous  explorer  of  Lake  Huron,  the  bold  invader 
of  the  Iroquois,  befits  but  indifferently  the  monastic 
sobrieties  of  the  fort  of  Quebec  and  his  sombre  environ 
ment  of  priests.  Yet  Champlain  was  no  formalist,  nor 
was  his  an  empty  zeal.  A  soldier  from  his  youth,  in  an 
age  of  unbridled  license,  his  life  had  answered  to  his 
maxims;  and  when  a  generation  had  passed  after  his 
visit  to  the  Hurons,  their  elders  remembered  with 
astonishment  the  continence  of  the  great  French  war- 
chief. 

His  books  mark  the  man,  —  all  for  his  theme  and  his 
purpose,  nothing  for  himself.  Crude  in  style,  full  of 
the  superficial  errors  of  carelessness  and  haste,  rarely 
diffuse,  often  brief  to  a  fault,  they  bear  on  every  page 
the  palpable  impress  of  truth. 


A  MILITARY   MISSION. 

QUEBEC  was  without  a  governor.  Who  should 
succeed  Champlain?  and  would  his  successor 
be  found  equally  zealous  for  the  Faith,  and  friendly  to 
the  mission  ?  These  doubts,  as  he  himself  tells  us, 
agitated  the  mind  of  the  Father  Superior,  Le  Jeune ; 
but  they  were  happily  set  at  rest,  when,  on  a  morning 
in  June,  he  saw  a  ship  anchoring  in  the  basin  below, 
and,  hastening  with  his  brethren  to  the  landing-place, 
was  there  met  by  Charles  Huault  de  Montmagny,  a 
Knight  of  Malta,  followed  by  a  train  of  officers  and 
gentlemen.  As  they  all  climbed  the  rock  together, 
Montmagny  saw  a  crucifix  planted  by  the  path.  He 
instantly  fell  on  his  knees  before  it ;  and  nobles,  soldiers, 
sailors,  and  priests  imitated  his  example.  The  Jesuits 
sang  Te  Deum  at  the  church,  and  the  cannon  roared 
from  the  adjacent  fort.  Here  the  new  governor  was 
scarcely  installed,  when  a  Jesuit  came  in  to  ask  if  he 
would  be  godfather  to  an  Indian  about  to  be  baptized. 
"  Most  gladly,"  replied  the  pious  Montmagny.  He 
repaired  on  the  instant  to  the  convert's  hut,  with  a  com 
pany  of  gayly  apparelled  gentlemen ;  and  while  the  in 
mates  stared  in  amazement  at  the  scarlet  and  embroidery, 
he  bestowed  on  the  dying  savage  the  name  of  Joseph, 
in  honor  of  the  spouse  of  the  Virgin  and  the  patron  of 
New  France,  Three  days  after,  he  was  told  that  a  dead 
proselyte  was  to  be  buried ,  on  which,  leaving  the  lines 


A   MILITARY    MISSION.  129 

of  the  new  fortification  he  was  tracing,  he  took  in  hand 
a  torch,  De  Lisle,  his  lieutenant,  took  another,  Repen- 
tigny  and  St.  Jean,  gentlemen  of  his  suite,  with  a  band 
of  soldiers,  followed,  two  priests  bore  the  corpse,  and 
thus  all  moved  together  in  procession  to  the  place  of 
burial.  The  Jesuits  were  comforted.  Champlain  him 
self  had  not  displayed  a  zeal  so  edifying. 

A  considerable  reinforcement  came  out  with  Mont- 
magny,  and  among  the  rest  several  men  of  birth  and 
substance,  with  their  families  and  dependants.  "  It  was 
a  sight  to  thank  God  for,"  exclaims  Father  Le  Jeune, 
"  to  behold  these  delicate  young  ladies  and  these  tender 
infants  issuing  from  their  wooden  prison,  like  day  from 
the  shades  of  night."  The  Father,  it  will  be  remembered, 
had  for  some  years  past  seen  nothing  but  squaws,  with 
pappooses  swathed  like  mummies  and  strapped  to  a 
board. 

Both  Montmagny  and  De  Lisle  were  half  churchmen, 
for  both  were  Knights  of  Malta.  More  and  more  the 
powers  spiritual  engrossed  the  colony.  As  nearly  as 
might  be,  the  sword  itself  was  in  priestly  hands.  The 
Jesuits  were  all  in  all.  Authority,  absolute  and  without 
appeal,  was  vested  in  a  council  composed  of  the  governor, 
Le  Jeune,  and  the  syndic,  an  official  supposed  to  repre 
sent  the  interests  of  the  inhabitants.  There  was  no 
tribunal  of  justice,  and  the  governor  pronounced  sum 
marily  on  all  complaints.  The  church  adjoined  the 
fort ;  and  before  it  was  planted  a  stake  bearing  a  placard 
with  a  prohibition  against  blasphemy,  drunkenness,  or 
neglect  of  mass  and  other  religious  rites.  To  the  stake 
was  also  attached  a  chain  and  iron  collar  ;  and  hard  bv 
was  a  wooden  horse,  whereon  a  culprit  was  now  and 
then  mounted  by  way  of  example  and  warning.  In  a 
community  so  absolutely  priest-governed,  overt  offences 


130  QUEBEC. 

were,  however,  rare ;  and,  except  on  the  annual  arrival 
of  the  ships  from  France,  when  the  rock  swarmed  with 
godless  sailors,  Quebec  was  a  model  of  decorum,  and 
wore,  as  its  chroniclers  tell  us,  an  aspect  unspeakably 
edifying. 

In  the  year  1640,  various  new  establishments  of 
religion  and  charity  might  have  been  seen  at  Quebec. 
There  was  the  beginning  of  a  college  and  a  seminary 
for  Huron  children,  an  embryo  Ursuline  convent,  an 
incipient  hospital,  and  a  new  Algonquin  mission  at  a 
place  called  Sillery,  four  miles  distant.  Champlain's 
fort  had  been  enlarged  and  partly  rebuilt  in  stone  by 
Montmagny,  who  had  also  laid  out  streets  on  the  site  of 
the  future  city,  though  as  yet  the  streets  had  no  houses. 
Behind  the  fort,  and  very  near  it,  stood  the  church  and 
a  house  for  the  Jesuits.  Both  were  of  pine  wood  ;  and 
this  year,  1640,  both  were  burned  to  the  ground,  to  be 
afterwards  rebuilt  in  stone. 

Aside  from  the  fur  trade  of  the  Company,  the  whole 
life  of  the  colony  was  in  missions,  convents,  religious 
schools,  and  hospitals.  Here  on  the  rock  of  Quebec 
were  the  appendages,  useful  and  otherwise,  of  an  old- 
established  civilization.  While  as  yet  there  were  no 
inhabitants,  and  no  immediate  hope  of  any,  there  were 
institutions  for  UK?  care  of  children,  the  sick,  and  the 
decrepit.  All  these  were  supported  by  a  charity  in 
most  cases  precarious.  The  Jesuits  relied  chiefly  on 
the  Company,  who,  by  the  terms  of  their  patent,  were 
obliged  to  maintain  religious  worship. 

Quebec  wore  an  aspect  half  military,  half  monastic. 
At  sunrise  and  sunset,  a  squad  of  soldiers  in  the  pay  of 
the  Company  paraded  in  the  fort ;  and,  as  in  Champlain's 
time,  the  bells  of  the  church  rang  morning,  noon,  and 
night.  Confessions,  masses,  and  penances  were  punc- 


A    MILITARY    MISSION.  131 

tiliously  observed  ;  and,  from  the  governor  to  the  mean 
est  laborer,  the  Jesuit  watched  and  guided  all.  The 
social  atmosphere  of  New  England  itself  was  not  more 
suffocating.  By  day  and  by  night,  at  home,  at  church, 
or  at  his  daily  work,  the  colonist  lived  under  the  eyes 
of  busy  and  over-zealous  priests.  At  times,  the  denizens 
of  Quebec  grew  restless.  In  1639,  deputies  were  covertly 
sent  to  beg  relief  in  France,  and  "  to  represent  the  hell 
in  which  the  consciences  of  the  colony  were  kept  by  the 
union  of  the  temporal  and  spiritual  authority  in  the 
same  hands." 

The  very  amusements  of  this  pious  community  were 
acts  of  religion.  Thus,  on  the  fete-day  of  St.  Joseph, 
the  patron  of  New  France,  there  was  a  show  of  fireworks 
to  do  him  honor.  In  the  forty  volumes  of  the  Jesuit 
Relations  there  is  but  one  pictorial  illustration  ;  and 
this  represents  the  pyrotechnic  contrivance  in  question, 
together  with  a  figure  of  the  Governor  in  the  act  of 
touching  it  off.  But,  what  is  more  curious,  a  Catholic 
writer  of  the  present  day,  the  Abbe  Faillon,  in  an  elabo 
rate  and  learned  work,  dilates  at  length  on  the  details 
of  the  display  ;  and  this,  too,  with  a  gravity  which 
evinces  his  conviction  that  squibs,  rockets,  blue-lights, 
and  serpents  are  important  instruments  for  the  saving 
of  souls.  On  May-Day  of  the  same  year,  1637,  Mont- 
magny  planted  before  the  church  a  May-pole  surmounted 
by  a  triple  crown,  beneath  which  were  three  symbolical 
circles  decorated  with  wreaths,  and  bearing  severally 
the  names,  lesus,  Maria,  losepJi ;  the  soldiers  drew  up 
before  it,  and  saluted  it  with  a  volley  of  musketry. 

On  the  anniversary  of  the  Dauphin's  birth  there  was 
a  dramatic  performance,  in  which  an  unbeliever,  speaking 
Algonquin  for  the  profit  of  the  Indians  present,  was 
hunted  into  Hell  by  fiends.  Religious  processions  were 


132  QUEBEC. 

frequent.  In  one  of  them,  the  Governor  in  a  court 
dress  and  a  baptized  Indian  in  beaver-skins  were  joint 
supporters  of  the  canopy  which  covered  the  Host.  In 
another,  six  Indians  led  the  van,  arrayed  each  in  a  vel 
vet  coat  of  scarlet  and  gold  sent  them  by  the  King.  Then 
came  other  Indian  converts,  two  and  two  ;  then  the 
foundress  of  the  Ursuline  convent,  with  Indian  children 
in  French  gowns ;  then  all  the  Indian  girls  and  women, 
dressed  after  their  own  way  ;  then  the  priests  ;  then  the 
Governor  ;  and  finally  the  whole  French  population, 
male  and  female,  except  the  artillery-men  at  the  fort, 
who  saluted  with  their  cannon  the  cross  and  banner 
borne  at  the  head  of  the  procession.  When  all  was 
over,  the  Governor  and  the  Jesuits  rewarded  the  Indians 
with  a  feast. 

Now  let  the  stranger  enter  the  church  of  Notre-Dame 
de  la  Recouvrance,  after  vespers.  It  is  full,  to  the  very 
porch  :  officers  in  slouched  hats  and  plumes,  musketeers, 
pikemen,  mechanics,  and  laborers.  Here  is  Montmagny 
himself;  Repentigny  and  Potcrie,  gentlemen  of  good 
birth  ;  damsels  of  nurture  ill  fitted  to  the  Canadian 
woods  ;  and,  mingled  with  these,  the  motionless  Indians, 
wrapped  to  the  throat  in  embroidered  moose-hides.  Le 
Jeune,  not  in  priestly  vestments,  but  in  the  common 
black  dress  of  his  Order,  is  before  the  altar  ;  and  on 
either  side  is  a  row  of  small  red-skinned  children  lis 
tening  with  exemplary  decorum,  while,  with  a  cheerful, 
smiling  face,  he  teaches  them  to  kneel,  clasp  their  hands, 
and  sign  the  cross.  All  the  principal  members  of  this 
zealous  community  are  present,  at  once  amused  and 
edified  at  the  grave  deportment,  and  the  prompt,  shrill 
replies  of  the  infant  catechumens  ;  while  their  parents  in 
the  crowd  grin  delight  at  the  gifts  of  beads  and  trinkets 
with  which  Lc  Jcunc  rewards  his  most  proficient  pupils. 


A    MILITARY    MISSION.  133 

The  methods  of  conversion  were  simple.  The  princi 
pal  appeal  was  to  fear.  "  You  do  good  to  your  friends," 
said  Le  Jcuno  to  an  Algonquin  chief,  "  and  you  burn 
your  enemies.  God  does  the  same."  And  he  painted 
Hell  to  the  startled  neophyte  as  a  place  where,  when  he 
was  hungry,  he  would  get  nothing  to  eat  but  frogs  and 
snakes,  and,  when  thirsty,  nothing  to  drink  but  flames. 
Pictures  were  found  invaluable.  u  These  holy  represen 
tations,"  pursues  the  Father  Superior,  "  are  half  the 
instruction  that  can  be  given  to  the  Indians.  I  wanted 
some  pictures  of  Hell  and  souls  in  perdition,  and  a  few 
were  sent  us  on  paper  ;  but  they  are  too  confused.  The 
devils  and  the  men  are  so  mixed  up,  that  one  can  make 
out  nothing  without  particular  attention.  If  three,  four, 
or  five  devils  were  painted  tormenting  a  soul  with  differ 
ent  punishments,  —  one  applying  fire,  another  serpents, 
another  tearing  him  with  pincers,  and  another  holding 
him  fast  with  a  chain,  —  this  would  have  a  good  effect, 
especially  if  everything  were  made  distinct,  and  misery, 
rage,  and  desperation  appeared  plainly  in  his  face." 

The  preparation  of  the  convert  for  baptism  was  often 
very  slight.  A  dying  Algonquin,  who,  though  meagre 
as  a  skeleton,  had  thrown  himself,  witli  a  last  effort  of 
expiring  ferocity,  on  an  Iroquois  prisoner,  and  torn  off 
his  ear  with  his  teeth,  was  baptized  almost  immediately. 
In  the  case  of  converts  in  health  there  was  far  more 
preparation ;  yet  these  often  apostatized.  The  various 
objects  of  instruction  may  all  be  included  in  one  compre 
hensive  word,  submission,  —  an  abdication  of  will  and 
judgment  in  favor  of  the  spiritual  director,  who  was  the 
interpreter  and  vicegerent  of  God. 


MASSACHUSETTS  ATTACKS  QUEBEC. 

T  IKE  Montreal,  Quebec  transformed  itself  in  time 
-1— '  lost  much  of  its  character  of  a  mission,  and  be 
came  the  seat  of  the  colonial  government.  In  short,  it 
became  secularized,  though  not  completely  so;  for  the 
priesthood  still  held  an  immense  influence  and  disputed 
the  mastery  with  the  civil  and  military  powers. 

In  the  beginning  of  William  and  Mary's  War,  Count 
Frontenac,  governor  of  Canada,  sent  repeated  war-par 
ties  to  harass  the  New  England  borders  ;  and,  in  1690, 
the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts  resolved  to  retort 
fby  a  decisive  blow.  Sir  William  Phips  was  chosen  to 
command  the  intended  expedition.  Plrips  is  said  to 
have  been  one  of  twenty-six  children,  all  of  the  same 
mother,  and  was  born  in  16oO  at  a  rude  border  settle 
ment,  since  called  Woolwich,  on  the  Kennebec.  His 
parents  were  ignorant  and  poor ;  and  till  eighteen  years 
of  age  he  was  employed  in  keeping  sheep.  Such  a  life 
ill  suited  his  active  and  ambitious  nature.  To  better 
his  condition,  he  learned  the  trade  of  ship-carpenter, 
and,  in  the  exercise  of  it,  came  to  Boston,  where  he 
married  a  widow  with  some  property,  beyond  him  in 
years,  and  much  above  him  in  station.  About  this  time, 
he  learned  to  read  and  write,  though  not  too  well,  for 
his  signature  is  like  that  of  a  peasant.  Still  aspiring  to 
greater  things,  lie  promised  his  wife  that  he  would  one 
day  command  a  king's  ship  and  own  a  "  fair  brick  house 


MASSACHUSETTS  ATTACKS  QUEBEC.     135 

iii  the  Green  Lane  of  North  Boston,"  a  quarter  then 
occupied  by  citizens  of  the  better  class.  He  kept  his 
word  at  both  points.  Fortune  was  inauspicious  to  him 
for  several  years ;  till  at  length,  under  the  pressure  of 
reverses,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  conquering  fame  and 
wealth  at  one  stroke,  by  fishing  up  the  treasure  said  to 
be  stored  in  a  Spanish  galleon  wrecked  fifty  years  before 
somewhere  in  the  West  Indian  seas.  Full  of  this  proj 
ect,  he  went  to  England,  where,  through  influences 
which  do  not  plainly  appear,  he  gained  a  hearing  from 
persons  in  high  places,  and  induced  the  Admiralty  to 
adopt  his  scheme.  A  frigate  was  given  him,  and  he 
sailed  for  the  West  Indies  ;  whence,  after  a  long  search, 
he  returned  unsuccessful,  though  not  without  adventures 
which  proved  his  mettle.  It  was  the  epoch  of  the  buc 
caneers  ;  and  his  crew,  tired  of  a  vain  and  toilsome 
search,  came  to  the  quarter-deck,  armed  with  cutlasses, 
and  demanded  of  their  captain  that  he  should  turn  pirate 
with  them.  Phips,  a  tall  and  powerful  man,  instantly 
fell  upon  them  with  his  fists,  knocked  down  the  ring 
leaders,  and  awed  them  all  into  submission.  Not  long 
after,  there  was  a  more  formidable  mutiny ;  but,  witli 
great  courage  and  address,  he  quelled  it  for  a  time,  and 
held  his  crew  to  their  duty  till  he  had  brought  the  ship 
into  Jamaica,  and  exchanged  them  for  better  men. 

Though  the  leaky  condition  of  the  frigate  compelled 
him  to  abandon  the  search,  it  was  not  till  he  had  gained 
information  which  he  thought  would  lead  to  success ; 
and,  on  his  return,  he  inspired  such  confidence  that  the 
Duke  of  Albemarle,  with  other  noblemen  and  gentlemen, 
gave  him  a  fresh  outfit,  and  despatched  him  again  on 
his  Quixotic  errand.  This  time  he  succeeded,  found  the 
wreck,  and  took  from  it  gold,  silver,  and  jewels  to  the 
value  of  three  hundred  thousand  pounds  sterling.  The 


136  QUEBEC. 

crew  now  leagued  together  to  seize  the  ship  and  divide 
the  prize;  and  Phips,  pushed  to  extremity,  was  com 
pelled  to  promise  that  every  man  of  them  should  have 
a  share  in  the  treasure,  even  if  lie  paid  it  himself.  On 
reaching  England,  he  kept  his  pledge  so  well  that,  after 
redeeming  it,  only  sixteen  thousand  pounds  was  left  as 
his  portion,  which,  however,  was  an  ample  fortune  in 
the  New  England  of  that  day.  He  gained,  too,  what 
he  valued  almost  as  much,  the  honor  of  knighthood. 
Tempting  offers  were  made  him  of  employment  in  the 
royal  service;  but  he  had  an  ardent  love  for  his  own 
country,  and  thither  he  presently  returned. 

Phips  was  a  rude  sailor,  bluff,  prompt,  and  choleric. 
He  never  gave  proof  of  intellectual  capacity ;  and  such 
of  his  success  in  life  as  he  did  not  owe  to  good  luck  was 
due  probably  to  an  energetic  and  adventurous  spirit, 
aided  by  a  blunt  frankness  of  address  that  pleased  the 
great,  and  commended  him  to  their  favor.  Two  years 
after  the  expedition  against  Quebec,  the  king,  under  the 
new  charter,  made  him  governor  of  Massachusetts,  a 
post  for  which,  though  totally  unfit,  he  had  been  recom 
mended  by  the  elder  Mather,  who,  like  his  son  Cotton, 
'  expected  to  make  use  of  him.  He  carried  his  old  habits 
into  his  new  office,  cudgelled  Brintou,  the  collector  of 
the  port,  and  belabored  Captain  Short  of  the  royal  navy 
with  his  cane.  Far  from  trying  to  hide  the  obscurity  of 
his  origin,  he  leaned  to  the  opposite  foible,  and  was  apt 
to  boast  of  it,  delighting  to  exhibit  himself  as  a  self- 
made  man.  New  England  writers  describe  him  as  hon 
est  in  private  dealings;  but,  in  accordance  with  his 
coarse  nature,  he  seems  to  have  thought  that  anything 
is  fair  in  war.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  warmly  pa 
triotic,  and  was  almost  as  ready  to  serve  New  England 
as  to  serve  himself. 


MASSACHUSETTS  ATTACKS  QUEBEC.     137 

Returning  from  an  expedition  to  Acadia,  he  found 
Boston  alive  with  martial  preparation.      Massachusetts 
of  her  own  motion  had  resolved  to  attempt  the  conquest 
of  Quebec.     She  and  her  sister  colonies  had  not  yet  re 
covered  from  the  exhaustion  of  Philip's  War,  and  still 
less  from  the  disorders  that  attended  the  expulsion  of 
the  royal  governor  and  his  adherents.     The  public  treas 
ury  was  empty,  and  the  recent  expeditions  against  the 
eastern   Indians   had    been   supported    by    private    sub 
scription.     AVorse  yet,  New  England  had  no  competent 
military   commander.      The  Puritan  gentlemen  of  the 
original  emigration,  some  of  whom  were  as  well  fitted 
for  military  as  for  civil  leadership,  had  passed  from  the 
stage ;  and,  by  a  tendency  which  circumstances  made 
inevitable,  they  had  left  none  behind  them  equally  quali 
fied.     The  great  Indian  conflict  of  fifteen  years  before 
had,  it  is  true,  formed  good  partisan  chiefs,  and  proved 
that  the  New  England  yeoman,  defending  his  family  and 
his  hearth,  was  not  to  be  surpassed  in  stubborn  fighting ; 
but,  since  Andros  and  his  soldiers  had  been  driven  out, 
there  was  scarcely  a  single  man  in  the  colony  of  the 
slightest  training  or  experience  in  regular  war.     Up  to 
this  moment,  New  England  had  never  asked  help  of  the 
mother  country.     When  thousands  of  savages  burst  on 
her  defenceless  settlements,  she  had  conquered  safety 
and  peace  with  her  own  blood  and  her  own  slender  re 
sources  ;  but  now,  as  the  proposed  capture  of  Quebec 
would  inure  to  the  profit  of  the  British  crown,  Governor 
Bradstreet  and  his  council  thought  it  not  unfitting  to 
ask  for  a  supply  of  arms  and  ammunition,  of  which  they 
were  in  great  need.     The  request  was  refused,  and  no 
aid  of  any  kind  came  from  the  English  government, 
whose  resources  were  engrossed  by  the  Irish  Avar. 

While  waiting  for  the  reply,  the  colonial  authorities 


138  QUEBEC. 

urged  on  their  preparations,  in  the  hope  that  the  plunder 
of  Quebec  would  pay  the  expenses  of  its  conquest, 
Humility  was  not  among  the  New  England  virtues,  and 
it  was  thought  a  sin  to  doubt  that  God  would  give  his 
chosen  people  the  victory  over  papists  and  idolaters ; 
yet  no  pains  were  spared  to  insure  the  divine  favor. 
A  proclamation  was  issued,  calling  the  people  to  repent 
ance  ;  a  day  of  fasting  was  ordained ;  and,  as  Mather 
expresses  it,  "  the  wheel  of  prayer  was  kept  in  continual 
motion."  The  chief  difficulty  was  to  provide  funds. 
An  attempt  was  made  to  collect  a  part  of  the  money  by 
private  subscription :  but,  as  this  plan  failed,  the  provi 
sional  government,  already  in  debt,  strained  its  credit  yet 
farther,  and  borrowed  the  needful  sums.  Thirtv-two 
trading  and  fishing  vessels,  great  and  small,  were  im 
pressed  for  the  service.  The  largest  was  a  ship  called 
the  "  Six  Friends,"  engaged  in  the  dangerous  West 
India  trade,  and  carrying  forty -four  guns.  A  call  was 
made  for  volunteers,  and  many  enrolled  themselves ; 
but,  as  more  were  wanted,  a  press  was  ordered  to  com 
plete  the  number.  So  rigorously  was  it  applied  that, 
what  with  voluntary  and  enforced  enlistment,  one  town, 
that  of  Gloucester,  was  deprived  of  two  thirds  of  its 
fencible  men.  There  was  not  a  moment  of  doubt  as  to 
the  choice  of  a  commander,  for  Phips  was  imagined  to 
be  the  very  man  for  the  work.  One  John  W  alley,  a 
respectable  citizen  of  Barnstable,  was  made  second  in 
command,  with  the  modest  rank  of  major ;  and  a  suffi 
cient  number  of  ship-masters,  merchants,  master  me 
chanics,  and  substantial  farmers,  were  commissioned  as 
subordinate  officers.  About  the  middle  of  July,  the 
committee  charged  with  the  preparations  reported  that 
all  was  ready.  Still  there  was  a  long  delay.  The  ves 
sel  sent  early  in  spring  to  ask  aid  from  England  had 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  139 

not  returned.  Phips  waited  for  her  as  long  as  he  dared, 
and  the  best  of  the  season  was  over  when  he  resolved 
to  put  to  sea.  The  rustic  warriors,  duly  formed  into 
companies,  were  sent  on  board ;  and  the  fleet  sailed 
from  Kantasket  on  the  ninth  of  August.  Including 
sailors,  it  carried  twenty-two  hundred  men,  with  pro 
visions  for  four  months,  but  insufficient  ammunition  and 
no  pilot  for  the  St.  Lawrence. 

The  delay  at  Boston,  waiting  aid  from  England  that 
never  came,  was  not  propitious  to  Phips ;  nor  were  the 
wind  and  the  waves.  The  voyage  to  the  St.  Lawrence 
was  a  long  one  ;  and  when  he  began,  without  a  pilot,  to 
grope  his  way  up  the  unknown  river,  the  weather  seemed 
in  league  with  his  enemies.  He  appears,  moreover,  to 
have  wasted  time.  What  was  most  vital  to  his  success 
was  rapidity  of  movement ;  yet,  whether  by  his  fault  or 
his  misfortune,  he  remained  three  weeks  within  three 
days'  sail  of  Quebec.  While  anchored  off  Tadoussac, 
with  the  wind  ahead,  he  passed  the  idle  hours  in  holding 
councils  of  war  and  framing  rules  for  the  government 
of  his  men ;  and,  when  at  length  the  wind  veered  to 
the  east,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  made  the  best  use  of  his 
opportunity. 

When,  after  his  protracted  voyage,  Phips  sailed  into 
the  Basin  of  Quebec,  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  on  the 
western  continent  opened  upon  his  sight :  the  wide  ex 
panse  of  waters,  the  lofty  promontory  beyond,  and  the 
opposing  heights  of  Levi ;  the  cataract  of  Montmorenci, 
the  distant  range  of  the  Laurentian  Mountains,  the  war 
like  rock  with  its  diadem  of  walls  and  towers,  the  roofs 
of  the  Lower  Town  clustering  on  the  strand  beneath, 
the  Chateau  St.  Louis  perched  at  the  brink  of  the  cliff, 
and  over  it  the  white  banner,  spangled  with  fleurs-de-lis, 
flaunting  defiance  in  the  clear  autumnal  air.  Perhaps, 


140  QUEBEC. 

as  he  gazed,  a  suspicion  seized  him  that  the  task  he  had 
undertaken  was  less  easy  than  he  had  thought ;  but  he 
had  conquered  once  by  a  simple  summons  to  surrender, 
and  he  resolved  to  try  its  virtue  again. 

The  fleet  anchored  a  little  below  Quebec  ;  and  towards 
ten  o'clock  the  French  saw  a  boat  put  out  from  the  ad 
miral's  ship,  bearing;  a  flag  of  truce.  Four  canoes  went 
from  the  Lower  Town,  and  met  it  midway.  It  brought 
a  subaltern  officer,  who  announced  himself  as  the  bearer 
of  a  letter  from  Sir  William  Phips  to  the  French  com 
mander.  He  was  taken  into  one  of  the  canoes  and 
paddled  to  the  quay,  after  being  completely  blindfolded 
by  a  bandage  which  covered  half  his  face.  An  officer 
named  Provost,  sent  by  Count  Frontcnac,  received  him 
as  he  landed,  and  ordered  two  sergeants  to  take  him  by 
the  arms  and  lead  him  to  the  governor.  His  progress 
was  neither  rapid  nor  direct.  They  drew  him  hither  and 
thither,  delighting  to  make  him  clamber  in  the  dark 
over  every  possible  obstruction ;  while  a  noisy  crowd 
hustled  him,  and  laughing  women  called  him  Colin 
Maillard,  the  name  of  the  chief  player  in  blindman's 
buff.  Amid  a  prodigious  hubbub,  intended  to  bewilder 
him  and  impress  him  with  a  sense  of  immense  warlike 
preparation,  they  dragged  him  over  the  three  barricades 
of  Mountain  Street,  and  brought  him  at  last  into  a  large 
room  of  the  chateau.  Here  they  took  the  bandage  from 
his  eyes.  He  stood  for  a  moment  with  an  air  of  as 
tonishment  and  some  confusion.  The  governor  stood 
before  him,  haughty  and  stern,  surrounded  by  French 
and  Canadian  officers,  Maricourt,  Sainte-Helene,  Lon- 
gueuil,  Villebon,  Valrenne,  Bienvillc,  and  many  more, 
bedecked  with  gold  lace  and  silver  lace,  perukes  and 
powder,  plumes  and  ribbons,  and  all  the  martial  foppery 
in  which  they  took  delight,  and  regarding  the  envoy 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  141 

with  keen,  defiant  eyes.  After  a  moment,  he  recovered 
his  breath  and  his  composure,  saluted  Frontenac,  and, 
expressing  a  wish  that  the  duty  assigned  him  had  been 
of  a  more  agreeable  nature,  handed  him  the  letter 
of  Phips.  Frontenac  gave  it  to  an  interpreter,  who 
read  it  aloud  in  French  that  all  might  hear.  It  ran 
thus : — 

"  Sir  William  Phips,  Knight,  General  and  Commander-in-chief  in  and  over 
their  Majesties'  Forces  of  New  England,  by  Sea  and  Land,  to  Count 
Frontenac,  Lieutenant-General  and  Governour  for  the  French  King  at 
Canada;  or,  in  his  absence,  to  his  Deputy ,  or  him  or  them  in  chief  com 
mand  at  Qiiebeck: 

"  The  war  between  the  crowns  of  England  and  France  doth 
not  only  sufficiently  warrant,  but  the  destruction  made  by  the 
French  and  Indians,  under  your  command  and  encouragement, 
upon  the  persons  and  estates  of  their  Majesties'  subjects  of  New 
England,  without  provocation  on  their  part,  hath  put  them 
under  the  necessity  of  this  expedition  for  their  own  security  and 
satisfaction.  And  although  the  cruelties  and  barbarities  used 
against  them  by  the  French- and  Indians  might,  upon  the  present 
opportunity,  prompt  unto  a  severe  revenge,  yet,  being  desirous  to 
avoid  all  inhumane  and  unchristian-like  actions,  and  to  prevent 
shedding  of  blood  as  much  as  may  be, 

"  I,  the  aforesaid  William  Phips,  Knight,  do  hereby,  in  the 
name  and  in  the  behalf  of  their  most  excellent  Majesties,  Wil 
liam  and  Mary,  King  and  Queen  of  England,  Scotland,  France, 
and  Ireland,  Defenders  of  the  Faith,  and  by  order  of  their  said 
Majesties'  government  of  the  Massachuset-colony  in  New  Eng 
land,  demand  a  present  surrender  of  your  forts  and  castles, 
undemolished,  and  the  King's  and  other  stores,  unimbezzled, 
with  a  seasonable  delivery  of  all  captives ;  together  with  a  sur 
render  of  all  your  persons  and  estates  to  my  dispose  :  upon  the 
doing  whereof,  you  may  expect  mercy  from  me,  as  a  Christian, 
according  to  what  shall  be  found  for  their  Majesties'  service 
and  the  subjects'  security.  Which,  if  you  refuse  forthwith  to 


142  QUEBEC. 

do,  I  am  come  provided,  and  am  resolved,  by  the  help  of  God, 
in  whom  I  trust,  by  force  of  arms  to  revenge  all  wrongs  and 
injuries  offered,  and  bring  you  under  subjection  to  the  Crown 
of  England,  and,  when  too  late,  make  you  wish  you  had  ac 
cepted  of  the  favour  tendered. 

"Your  answer  positive  in  an  hour,  returned  by  your  own 
trumpet,  with  the  return  of  mine,  is  required  upon  the  peril 
that  will  ensue." 

When  the  reading  was  finished,  the  Englishman 
pulled  his  watch  from  his  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  the 
governor.  Frontenac  could  not,  or  pretended  that  he 
could  not,  see  the  hour.  The  messenger  thereupon  told 
him  that  it  was  ten  o'clock,  and  that  he  must  have  his 
answer  before  eleven.  A  general  cry  of  indignation 
arose ;  and  Yalrcnnc  called  out  that  Phips  was  noth 
ing  but  a  pirate,  and  that  his  man  ought  to  be  hanged. 
Frontenac  contained  himself  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said  to  the  envoy  :  — 

"  I  will  not  keep  you  waiting  so  long.  Tell  your 
general  that  I  do  not  recognize  King  William  ;  and  that 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  who  so  styles  himself,  is  a  usurper, 
who  has  violated  the  most  sacred  laws  of  blood  in  at 
tempting  to  dethrone  his  father-in-law.  I  know  no  king 
of  England  but  King  James.  Your  general  ought  not 
to  be  surprised  at  the  hostilities  which  he  says  that  the 
French  have  carried  on  in  the  colony  of  Massachusetts ; 
for,  as  the  king  my  master  has  taken  the  king  of  Eng 
land  under  his  protection,  and  is  about  to  replace  him 
on  his  throne  by  force  of  arms,  he  might  have  expected 
that  his  Majesty  would  order  me  to  make  war  on  a 
people  who  have  rebelled  against  their  lawful  prince." 
Then,  turning  with  a  smile  to  the  officers  about  him : 
"  Even  if  your  general  offered  me  conditions  a  little 
more  gracious,  and  if  I  had  a  mind  to  accept  them,  does 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  143 

he  suppose  that  these  brave  gentlemen  would  give  their 
consent,  and  advise  me  to  trust  a  man  who  broke  his 
agreement  with  the  governor  of  Port  Royal,  or  a  rebel 
who  has  failed  in  his  duty  to  his  king,  and  forgotten  all 
the  favors  he  had  received  from  him,  to  follow  a  prince 
who  pretends  to  be  the  liberator  of  England  and  the 
defender  of  the  faith,  and  yet  destroys  the  laws  and 
privileges  of  the  kingdom  and  overthrows  its  religion  ? 
The  divine  justice  which  your  general  invokes  in  his 
letter  will  not  fail  to  punish  such  acts  severely." 

The  messenger  seemed  astonished  and  startled ;  but 
he  presently  asked  if  the  governor  would  give  him  his 
answer  in  writing. 

"  No,"  returned  Frontenac,  "  I  will  answer  your  gen 
eral  only  by  the  mouths  of  my  cannon,  that  he  may  learn 
that  a  man  like  me  is  not  to  be  summoned  after  this 
fashion.  Let  him  do  his  best,  and  I  will  do  mine ; " 
and  he  dismissed  the  Englishman  abruptly.  He  was 
again  blindfolded,  led  over  the  barricades,  and  sent  back 
to  the  fleet  by  the  boat  that  brought  him. 

Phips  had  often  given  proof  of  personal  courage,  but 
for  the  past  three  weeks  his  conduct  seems  that  of  a 
man  conscious  that  he  is  charged  with  a  work  too  large 
for  his  capacity.  He  had  spent  a  good  part  of  his  time 
in  holding  councils  of  war ;  and  now,  when  he  heard  the 
answer  of  Frontenac,  he  called  another  to  consider  what 
should  be  done.  A  plan  of  attack  was  at  length  ar 
ranged.  The  militia  were  to  be  landed  on  the  shore  of 
Beauport,  which  was  just  below  Quebec,  though  sepa 
rated  from  it  by  the  St.  Charles.  They  were  then  to 
cross  this  river  by  a  ford  practicable  at  low  water,  climb 
the  heights  of  St.  Genevieve,  and  gain  the  rear  of  the 
town.  The  small  vessels  of  the  fleet  were  to  aid  the 
movement  by  ascending  the  St.  Charles  as  far  as 


144  QUEBEC. 

the  ford,  holding  the  enemy  in  check  by  their  fire,  and 
carrying  provisions,  ammunition,  and  intrenching  tools, 
for  the  use  of  the  land  troops.  When  these  had  crossed 
and  were  ready  to  attack  Quebec  in  the  rear,  Phips  was 
to  cannonade  it  in  front,  and  land  two  hundred  men 
under  cover  of  his  guns  to  effect  a  diversion  by  storm 
ing  the  barricades.  Some  of  the  French  prisoners,  from 
whom  their  captors  appear  to  have  received  a  great  deal 
of  correct  information,  told  the  admiral  that  there  was  a 
place  a  mile  or  two  above  the  town  where  the  heights 
might  be  scaled  and  the  rear  of  the  fortifications  reached 
from  a  direction  opposite  to  that  proposed.  This  was 
precisely  the  movement  by  which  Wolfe  afterwards 
gained  his  memorable  victory ;  but  Phips  chose  to  abide 
by  the  original  plan. 

While  the  plan  was  debated,  the  opportunity  for  ac 
complishing  it  ebbed  away.  It  was  still  early  when  the 
messenger  returned  from  Quebec  ;  but,  before  Phips swas 
ready  to  act,  the  day  was  on  the  wane  and  the  tide  was 
against  him.  He  lay  quietly  at  his  moorings  when,  in 
the  evening,  a  great  shouting,  mingled  with  the  roll  of 
drums  and  the  sound  of  fifes,  was  heard  from  the  Upper 
Town.  The  English  officers  asked  their  prisoner,  Gran- 
ville,  what  it  meant.  "Ma  foi,  Messieurs,"  he  replied, 
"you  have  lost  the  game.  It  is  the  Governor  of  Mon 
treal  with  the  people  from  the  country  above.  There  is 
nothing  for  you  now  but  to  pack  and  go  home."  In 
fact,  Callieres  had  arrived  with  seven  or  eight  hundred 
men,  many  of  them  regulars.  With  these  were  bands 
of  coureurs  de  bois  and  other  young  Canadians,  all  full 
of  fight,  singing  and  whooping  with  martial  glee  as  they 
passed  the  western  gate  and  trooped  down  St.  Louis 
Street. 

The  next  day  was  gusty  and  blustering;  and  still  Phips 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  145 

lay  quiet,  waiting  on  the  winds  and  the  waves.  A  small 
vessel,  with  sixty  men  on  board,  under  Captain  Ephraim 
Savage,  ran  in  towards  the  shore  of  Beau  port  to  examine 
the  landing,  and  stuck  fast  in  the  mud.  The  Canadians 
plied  her  with  bullets,  and  brought  a  cannon  to  bear  on 
her.  They  might  have  waded  out  and  boarded  her,  but 
Savage  and  his  men  kept  up  so  hot  a  lire  that  they 
forbore  the  attempt;  and,  when  the  tide  rose,  she  floated 
again. 

There  was  another  night  of  tranquillity ;  but  at  about 
eleven  on  Wednesday  morning  the  French  heard  the 
English  fifes  and  drums  in  full  action,  while  repeated 
shouts  of  "  God  save  King  William  !  "  rose  from  all  the 
vessels.  This  lasted  an  hour  or  more ;  after  which  a 
great  number  of  boats,  loaded  with  men,  put  out  from 
the  fleet  and  rowed  rapidly  towards  the  shore  of  Beau- 
port.  The  tide  was  low,  and  the  boats  grounded  before 
reaching  the  landing-place.  The  French  on  the  rock 
could  see  the  troops  through  telescopes,  looking  in  the 
distance  like  a  swarm  of  black  ants,  as  they  waded 
through  mud  and  water,  and  formed  in  companies  along 
the  strand.  They  were  some  thirteen  hundred  in  num 
ber,  and  were  commanded  by  Major  Walley.  Frontenac 
had  sent  three  hundred  sharpshooters,  under  Sainte- 
Helene,  to  meet  them  and  hold  them  in  check.  A  bat 
talion  of  troops  followed ;  but,  long  before  they  could 
reach  the  spot,  Sainte-IMene's  men,  with  a  few  militia 
from  the  neighboring  parishes,  and  a  band  of  Huron 
warriors  from  Lorctte,  threw  themselves  into  the  thick 
ets  along  the  front  of  the  English,  and  opened  a  distant 
but  galling  fire  upon  the  compact  bodies  of  the  enemy. 
Walley  ordered  a  charge.  The  New  England  men  rushed, 
in  a  disorderly  manner,  but  with  great  impetuosity,  up 
the  rising  ground ;  received  two  volleys,  which  failed  to 

10 


146  QUEBEC. 

check  them;  and  drove  back  the  assailants  in  some 
confusion.  They  turned,  however,  and  fought  in  Indian 
fashion  with  courage  and  address,  leaping  and  dodging 
among  trees,  rocks,  and  bushes,  tiring  as  they  retreated, 
and  inflicting  more  harm  than  they  received.  Towards 
evening  they  disappeared ;  and  Walley,  whose  men  had 
been  much  scattered  in  the  desultory  fight,  drew  them  to 
gether  as  well  as  he  could,  and  advanced  towards  the  St. 
Charles,  in  order  to  meet  the  vessels  which  were  to  aid 
him  in  passing  the  ford.  Here  he  posted  sentinels,  and 
encamped  for  the  night.  He  had  lost  four  killed  and 
about  sixty  wounded,  and  imagined  that  he  had  killed 
twenty  or  thirty  of  the  enemy.  In  fact,  however,  their 
loss  was  much  less,  though  among  the  killed  was  a 
valuable  officer,  the  Chevalier  dc  Clcrmont,  and  among 
the  wounded  the  veteran  captain  of  Beauport,  Juchereau 
de  Saint-Denis,  more  than  sixty-four  years  of  age.  In 
the  evening,  a  deserter  came  to  the  English  camp,  and 
brought  the  unwelcome  intelligence  that  there  were  three 
thousand  armed  men  in  Quebec. 

Meanwhile,  Phips,  whose  fault  hitherto  had  not  been 
an  excess  of  promptitude,  grew  impatient,  and  made  a 
premature  movement  inconsistent  with  the  preconcerted 
plan.  He  left  his  moorings,  anchored  his  largest  ships 
before  the  town,  and  prepared  to  cannonade  it ;  but  the 
fiery  veteran  who  watched  him  from  the  Chateau  St. 
Louis  anticipated  him,  and  gave  him  the  first  shot.  Phips 
replied  furiously,  opening  fire  with  every  gun  that  he 
could  bring  to  bear ;  while  the  rock  paid  him  back  in 
kind,  and  belched  flame  and  smoke  from  all  its  batteries. 
So  fierce  and  rapid  was  the  firing,  that  La  Hontan  com 
pares  it  to  volleys  of  musketry  ;  and  old  officers,  who  had 
seen  many  sieges,  declared  that  they  had  never  known 
the  like.  The  din  was  prodigious,  reverberated  from  the 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  147 

surrounding  heights,  and  rolled  back  from  the  distant 
mountains  in  one  continuous  roar.  On  the  part  of  the 
English,  however,  surprisingly  little  was  accomplished 
beside  noise  and  smoke.  The  practice  of  their  gunners 
was  so  bad  that  many  of  their  shot  struck  harmlessly 
against  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Their  guns,  too,  were  very 
light,  and  appear  to  have  been  charged  with  a  view 
to  the  most  rigid  economy  of  gunpowder ;  for  the  balls 
failed  to  pierce  the  stone  walls  of  the  buildings,  and 
did  so  little  damage  that,  as  the  French  boasted,  twenty 
crowns  would  have  repaired  it  all.  Night  came  at  length, 
and  the  turmoil  ceased. 

Phips  lay  quiet  till  daybreak,  when  Frontenac  sent  a 
shot  to  waken  him,  and  the  cannonade  began  again. 
Sainte-Helene  had  returned  from  Beauport ;  and  he, 
with  his  brother  Maricourt,  took  charge  of  the  two  bat 
teries  of  the  Lower  Town,  aiming  the  guns  in  person, 
and  throwing  balls  of  eighteen  and  twenty-four  pounds 
with  excellent  precision  against  the  four  largest  ships 
of  the  fleet.  One  of  their  shots  cut  the  flagstaff  of  the 
admiral,  and  the  cross  of  St.  George  fell  into  the  river. 
It  drifted  with  the  tide  towards  the  north  shore  ;  where 
upon  several  Canadians  paddled  out  in  a  birch  canoe, 
secured  it,  and  brought  it  back  in  triumph.  On  the 
spire  of  the  cathedral  in  the  Upper  Town  had  been 
hung  a  picture  of  the  Holy  Family,  as  an  invocation  of 
divine  aid.  The  Puritan  gunners  wasted  their  ammuni 
tion  in  vain  attempts  to  knock  it  down.  That  it  escaped 
their  malice  was  ascribed  to  miracle,  but  the  miracle 
would  have  been  greater  if  they  had  hit  it. 

At  length,  one  of  the  ships,  which  had  suffered  most, 
hauled  off  and  abandoned  the  fight.  That  of  the  admiral 
had  fared  little  better,  and  now  her  condition  grew  des 
perate.  With  her  rigging  torn,  her  mainmast  half  cut 


148  QUEBEC. 

through,  her  mizzcn-mast  splintered,  her  cabin  pierced, 
and  her  hull  riddled  with  shot,  another  volley  seemed 
likely  to  sink  her,  when  Phips  ordered  her  to  he  cut 
loose  from  her  moorings,  and  she  drifted  out  of  fire, 
leaving  cable  and  anchor  behind.  The  remaining  ships 
soon  gave  over  the  conflict,  and  withdrew  to  stations 
where  they  could  neither  do  harm  nor  suffer  it. 

Phips  had  thrown  away  nearly  all  his  ammunition  in 
this  futile  and  disastrous  attack,  which  should  have 
been  deferred  till  the  moment  when  Walley,  with  his 
land  force,  had  gained  the  rear  of  the  town.  Walley 
lay  in  his  camp,  his  men  wet,  shivering  with  cold, 
famished,  and  sickening  with  the  small-pox.  Food,  and 
all  other  supplies,  were  to  have  been  brought  him  by 
the  small  vessels,  which  should  have  entered  the  mouth 
of  the  St.  Charles  and  aided  him  to  cross  it.  But  he 
waited  for  them  in  vain.  Every  vessel  that  carried  a 
gun  had  busied  itself  in  cannonading,  and  the  rest  did 
not  move.  There  appears  to  have  been  insubordination 
among  the  masters  of  these  small  craft,  some  of  whom, 
being  owners  or  part-owners  of  the  vessels  they  com 
manded,  were  probably  unwilling  to  run  them  into 
danger.  Walley  was  no  soldier  ;  but  he  sa\v  that  to 
attempt  the  passage  of  the  river  without  aid,  under  the 
batteries  of  the  town  and  in  the  face  of  forces  twice  as 
numerous  as  his  own,  was  not  an  easy  task.  Frontenac, 
on  his  part,  says  that  he  wished  him  to  do  so,  knowing 
that  the  attempt  would  ruin  him.  The  New  England 
men  were  eager  to  push  on  ;  but  the  night  of  Thursday, 
the  day  of  Phips's  repulse,  was  so  cold  that  ice  formed 
more  than  an  inch  in  thickness,  and  the  half-starved 
militia  suffered  intensely.  Six  field-pieces,  with  their 
ammunition,  had  been  sent  ashore  ;  but  they  were  nearly 
useless,  as  there  were  no  means  of  moving  them.  Half 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  149 

a  barrel  of  musket  powder,  and  one  biscuit  for  each 
man,  were  also  landed  ;  and  with  this  meagre  aid  Wallcy 
was  left  to  capture  Quebec.  He  might,  had  he  dared, 
have  made  a  dash  across  the  ford  on  the  morning  of 
Thursday,  and  assaulted  the  town  in  the  rear  while 
Phips  was  cannonading  it  in  front ;  but  his  courage  was 
not  equal  to  so  desperate  a  venture.  The  firing  ceased, 
and  the  possible  opportunity  was  lost.  The  citizen 
soldier  despaired  of  success  ;  and,  on  the  morning  of 
Friday,  he  went  on  board  the  admiral's  ship  to  explain 
his  situation.  While  he  was  gone,  his  men  put  them 
selves  in  motion,  and  advanced  Tilong  the  borders  of  the 
St.  Charles  towards  the  ford.  Frontenac,  with  three  bat 
talions  of  regular  troops,  went  to  receive  them  at  the 
crossing ;  while  Saintc-Helene,  with  his  brother  Lon- 
gueuil,  passed  the  ford  with  a  body  of  Canadians,  and 
opened  fire  on  them  from  the  neighboring  thickets. 
Their  advance  parties  were  driven  in,  and  there  was  a 
hot  skirmish,  the  chief  loss  falling  on  the  New  England 
men,  who  were  fully  exposed.  On  the  side  of  the  French, 
Sainte-Heleiie  was  mortally  wounded,  and  his  brother 
was  hurt  by  a  spent  ball.  Towards  evening,  the  Cana 
dians  withdrew,  and  the  English  encamped  for  the  night. 
Their  commander  presently  rejoined  them.  The  admiral 
had  given  him  leave  to  withdraw  them  to  the  fleet,  and 
boats  were  accordingly  sent  to  bring  them  off ;  but,  as 
these  did  not  arrive  till  about  daybreak,  it  was  necessary 
to  defer  the  embarkation  till  the  next  night. 

At  dawn,  Quebec  was  all  astir  with  the  beating  of 
drums  and  the  ringing  of  bells.  The  New  England 
drums  replied  ;  and  Wallcy  drew  up  his  men  under 
arms,  expecting  an  attack,  for  the  town  was  so  near 
that  the  hubbub  of  voices  from  within  could  plainly  be 
heard.  The  noise  gradually  died  away  ;  and,  except  a 


150  QUEBEC. 

few  shots  from  the  ramparts,  the  invaders  were  left 
undisturbed.  Walley  sent  two  or  three  companies  to 
beat  up  the  neighboring  thickets,  where  he  suspected 
that  the  enemy  was  lurking.  On  the  way,  they  had  the 
good  luck  to  find  and  kill  a  number  of  cattle,  which 
they  cooked  and  ate  on  the  spot ;  whereupon,  being 
greatly  refreshed  and  invigorated,  they  dashed  forward 
in  complete  disorder,  and  were  soon  met  by  the  fire  of 
the  ambushed  Canadians.  Several  more  companies  were 
sent  to  their  support,  and  the  skirmishing  became  lively. 
Three  detachments  from  Quebec  had  crossed  the  river  ; 
and  the  militia  of  Beauport  and  Bcaupre  had  hastened 
to  join  them.  They  fought  like  Indians,  hiding  behind 
trees  or  throwing  themselves  flat  among  the  bushes, 
and  laying  repeated  ambuscades  as  they  slowly  fell 
back.  At  length,  they  all  made  a  stand  on  a  hill  behind 
the  buildings  and  fences  of  a  farm  ;  and  here  they  held 
their  ground  till  night,  while  the  New  England  men 
taunted  them  as  cowards  who  would  never  fight  except 
under  cover. 

Walley,  who  with  his  main  body  had  stood  in  arms  all 
day,  now  called  in  the  skirmishers,  and  fell  back  to  the 
landing-place,  where,  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark,  the  boats 
arrived  from  the  fleet.  The  sick  men,  of  whom  there 
were  many,  were  sent  on  board,  and  then,  amid  floods 
of  rain,  the  whole  force  embarked  in  noisy  confusion, 
leaving  behind  them  in  the  mud  five  of  their  cannon. 
Hasty  as  was  their  parting,  their  conduct  on  the  whole 
had  been  creditable  ;  and  La  Plontan,  who  was  in  Quebec 
at  the  time,  says  of  them,  "  They  fought  vigorously, 
though  as  ill-disciplined  as  men  gathered  together  at 
random  could  be ;  for  they  did  not  lack  courage,  and, 
if  they  failed,  it  was  by  reason  of  their  entire  ignorance 
of  discipline,  and  because  they  were  exhausted  by  the 


MASSACHUSETTS    ATTACKS    QUEBEC.  151 

fatigues  of  the  voyage."  Of  Phips  he  speaks  with 
contempt,  and  says  that  he  could  not  have  served  the 
French  better  if  they  liad  bribed  him  to  stand  all  the 
while  with  his  arms  folded.  Some  allowance  should, 
nevertheless,  be  made  him  for  the  unmanageable  char 
acter  of  the  force  under  his  command,  the  constitution 
of  which  was  fatal  to  military  subordination. 

On  Sunday,  the  morning  after  the  re-embarkation, 
Phips  called  a  council  of  officers,  and  it  was  resolved 
that  the  men  should  rest  for  a  clay  or  two,  that  there 
should  be  a  meeting  for  prayer,  and  that,  if  ammunition 
enough  could  be  found,  another  landing  should  be  at 
tempted  ;  but  the  rough  weather  prevented  the  prayer- 
meeting,  and  the  plan  of  a  new  attack  was  fortunately 
abandoned. 

Quebec  remained  in  agitation  and  alarm  till  Tuesday, 
when  Phips  weighed  anchor  and  disappeared,  with  all 
his  fleet,  behind  the  Island  of  Orleans.  He  did  not  go 
far,  as  indeed  he  could  not,  but  stopped  four  leagues 
below  to  mend  rigging,  fortify  wounded  masts,  and  stop 
shot-holes.  Subercase  had  gone  with  a  detachment  to 
watch  the  retiring  enemy ;  and  Phips  was  repeatedly 
seen  among  his  men,  on  a  scaffold  at  the  side  of  his 
ship,  exercising  his  old  trade  of  carpenter.  This  delay 
was  turned  to  good  use  by  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 
Chief  among  those  in  the  hands  of  the  French  was 
Captain  Davis,  late  commander  at  Casco  Bay  ;  and  there 
were  also  two  young  daughters  of  Lieutenant  Clark,  who 
had  been  killed  at  the  same  place.  Frontenac  himself 
had  humanely  ransomed  these  children  from  the  Indians  ; 
and  Madame  de  Champigny,  wife  of  the  intendant,  had, 
with  equal  kindness,  bought  from  them  a  little  girl 
named  Sarah  Gerrish,  and  placed  her  in  charge  of 
the  nuns  at  the  Hotel-Dieu,  who  had  become  greatly 


152 


QUEBEC. 


attached  to  her,  while  she,  on  her  part,  left  them  with 
reluctance.  The  French  hud  the  better  in  these  ex 
changes,  receiving  able-bodied  men,  and  returning,  with 
the  exception  of  Davis,  only  women  and  children. 

The  heretics  were  gone,  and  Quebec  breathed  freely 
again.     Her  escape  had   been  a  narrow  one;  not  that 
three  thousand  men,  in  part  regular  troops,  defending 
one  of   the  strongest   positions  on  the  continent,  and 
commanded  by  Frontenac.  could  not  defy  the  attacks  of 
two  thousand   raw   fishermen   and   farmers,  led   bv   an 
ignorant  civilian,  but  the  numbers  which  were  a  source 
of  strength  were  at  the  same  time  a  source  of  weakness. 
Nearly  all  the  adult  males  of  Canada  were  gathered  at 
Quebec,  and  there  was  imminent  danger  of  starvation. 
Cattle  from  the  neighboring  parishes  had  been  hastily 
driven  into  the  town;  but  there  was  little  other  pro 
vision,  and  before  Phips  retreated  the  pinch  of  famine 
had  begun.     Had  he  come  a  week  earlier  or  stayed  a 
week  later,  the  French  themselves  believed  that  Quebec 
would  have  fallen,  in  the  one  case  for  want  of  men,  and 
in  the  other  for  want  of  food. 

Phips  returned  crestfallen  to  Boston  late  in  Novem 
ber;  and  one  by  one  the  rest  of  the  fleet  came  strag 
gling  after  him,  battered  and  weather-beaten.  Some 
did  not  appear  till  February,  and  three  or  four  never 
came  at  all.  The  autumn  and  early  winter  were  un 
usually  stormy.  Captain  Rainsford,  with  sixty  men, 
was  wrecked  on  the  Island  of  Ariticosti,  where  more 
than  half  their  number  died  of  cold  and  misery.  In  the 
other  vessels,  some  were  drowned,  some  frost-bitten,  and 
above  two  hundred  killed  by  small-pox  and  fever. 

At  Boston,  all  was  dismay  and  gloom.  The  Puritan 
bowed  before  "  this  awful  frown  of  God,"  and  searched 
his  conscience  for  the  sin  that  had  brought  upon  him  so 


MASSACHUSETTS  ATTACKS  QUEBEC.     153 

stern  a  chastisement.  Massachusetts,  already  impover 
ished,  found  herself  in  extremity.  The  war,  instead  of 
paying  for  itself,  had  burdened  her  -with  an  additional 
debt  of  fifty  thousand  pounds.  The  sailors  and  soldiers 
were  clamorous  for  their  pay ;  and,  to  satisfy  them,  the 
colony  was  forced  for  the  first  time  in  its  history  to  issue 
a  paper  currency.  It  was  made  receivable  at  a  premium 
for  all  public  debts,  and  was  also  fortified  by  a  provision 
for  its  early  redemption  by  taxation ;  a  provision  which 
was  carried  into  effect  in  spite  of  poverty  and  distress. 

Massachusetts  had  made  her  usual  mistake.  She  had 
confidently  believed  that  ignorance  and  inexperience 
could  match  the  skill  of  a  tried  veteran,  and  that  the 
rude  courage  of  her  fishermen  and  farmers  could  tri 
umph  without  discipline  or  leadership.  The  conditions 
of  her  material  prosperity  were  adverse  to  efficiency  in 
war.  A  trading  republic,  without  trained  officers,  may 
win  victories ;  but  it  wins  them  cither  by  accident  or  by 
an  extravagant  outlay  in  money  and  life. 


THE  HEIGHTS   OF  ABRAHAM. 

THE  early  part  of  the  Seven  Years'  War  was  disas 
trous  to  England.  The  tide  turned  with  the  ac 
cession  to  power  of  the  great  war  minister,  William  Pitt. 
In  1759,  he  sent  General  James  Wolfe  with  a  combined 
military  and  naval  force  to  capture  Quebec.  The  British 
troops  numbered  somewhat  less  than  nine  thousand, 
while  Montcalm  and  Vaudreuil  were  posted  to  receive 
them,  on  positions  almost  impregnable,  with  an  army 
of  regulars,  Canadians,  and  Indians,  amounting  in  all 
to  about  sixteen  thousand.  The  great  height  of  the 
shores  made  the  British  ships  of  little  or  no  use  for 
purposes  of  attack. 

Wolfe  took  possession  of  Point  Levi,  from  which  he 
bombarded  Quebec.  He  also  seized  the  high  grounds 
just  below  the  Montmorenci,  and  vainly  tried  to  cross 
that  stream  above  the  cataract  and  gain  the  rear  of 
Montcalm's  army,  which  lay  encamped  along  the  shore 
from  the  Montmorenci  to  the  city.  Failing  in  this  and 
every  other  attempt  to  force  the  enemy  to  a  battle,  he 
rashly  resolved  to  attack  them  in  front,  up  the  steep 
declivities  at  the  top  of  which  they  were  intrenched. 
The  grenadiers  dashed  forward  prematurely  and  without 
orders,  struggling  desperately  to  scale  the  heights  under 
a  deadly  fire.  The  result  was  a  complete  repulse,  with 
heavy  loss. 

The  capture  of  Quebec  now  seemed  hopeless.  Wolfe 
was  almost  in  despair.  His  body  was  as  frail  as  his 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  155 

spirit  was  ardent  and  daring.  Since  the  siege  began 
he  had  passed  with  ceaseless  energy  from  camp  to 
camp,  animating  the  troops,  observing  everything, 
and  directing  everything;  but  now  the  pale  face  and 
tall  lean  form  were  seen  no  more,  and  the  rumor  spread 
that  the  General  was  dangerously  ill.  He  had  in  fact 
been  seized  by  an  access  of  the  disease  that  had  tortured 
him  for  some  time  past ;  and  fever  had  followed.  His 
quarters  were  at  a  French  farmhouse  in  the  camp  tit 
Montmorenci ;  and  here,  as  he  lay  in  an  upper  chamber, 
helpless  in  bed,  his  singular  and  most  unmilitary  fea 
tures  haggard  with  disease  and  drawn  with  pain,  no 
man  could  less  have  looked  the  hero.  But  as  the  needle, 
though  quivering,  points  always  to  the  pole,  so,  through 
torment  and  languor  and  the  heats  of  fever,  the  mind  of 
Wolfe  dwelt  on  the  capture  of  Quebec.  His  illness, 
which  began  before  the  twentieth  of  August,  had  so 
far  subsided  on  the  twenty-fifth  that  Captain  Knox 
wrote  in  his  Diary  of  that  day :  "  His  Excellency  Gen 
eral  Wolfe  is  on  the  recovery,  to  the  inconceivable  joy 
of  the  whole  army."  On  the  twenty-ninth  he  was  able 
to  write  or  dictate  a  letter  to  the  three  brigadiers. 
Monckton,  Townshend,  and  Murray:  "That  the  public 
service  may  not  suffer  by  the  General's  indisposition, 
he  begs  the  brigadiers  will  meet  and  consult  together 
for  the  public  utility  and  advantage,  and  consider  of  the 
best  method  to  attack  the  enemy."  The  letter  then 
proposes  three  plans,  all  bold  to  audacity.  The  first 
was  to  send  a  part  of  the  army  to  ford  the  Montmorenci 
eight  or  nine  miles  above  its  mouth,  march  through  the 
forest,  and  fall  on  the  rear  of  the  French  at  Beauport, 
while  the  rest  landed  and  attacked  them  in  front.  The 
second  was  to  cross  the  ford  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mont 
morenci  and  march  along  the  strand,  under  the  French 


156  QUEBEC. 

intrenchments,  till  a  place  could  be  found  where  the 
troops  might  climb  the  heights.  The  third  was  to  make 
a  general  attack  from  boats  at  the  Beauport  flats.  Wolfe 
had  before  entertained  t\vo  other  plans,  one  of  which  was 
to  scale  the  heights  at  St.  Michel,  about  a  league  above 
Quebec  ;  but  this  he  had  abandoned  on  learning  that  the 
French  were  there  in  force  to  receive  him.  The  other 
was  to  storm  the  Lower  Town  ;  but  this  also  he  had 
abandoned,  because  the  Upper  Town,  which  commanded 
it,  would  still  remain  inaccessible. 

The  brigadiers  met  in  consultation,  rejected  the  three 
plans  proposed  in  the  letter,  and  advised  that  an  attempt 
should  be  made  to  gain  a  footing  on  the  north  shore 
above  the  town,  place  the  army  between  Montcalm  and 
his  base  of  supply,  and  so  force  him  to  light  or  surren 
der.  The  scheme  was  similar  to  that  of  the  heights  of 
St.  Michel.  It  seemed  desperate,  but  so  did  all  the 
rest;  and  if  by  chance  it  should  succeed,  the  gain  was 
far  greater  than  could  follow  any  success  below  the 
town.  Wolfe  embraced  it  at  once. 

Not  that  he  saw  much  hope  in  it.  He  knew  that 
every  chance  was  against  him.  Disappointment  in  the 
past  and  gloom  in  the  future,  the  pain  and  exhaustion 
of  disease,  toils,  and  anxieties  "  too  great,"  in  the  words 
of  Burke,  "to  be  supported  by  a  delicate  constitution, 
and  a  body  unequal  to  the  vigorous  and  enterprising  soul 
that  it  lodged,"  threw  him  at  times  into  deep  dejection. 
By  those  intimate  with  him  he  was  heard  to  say  that  he 
would  not  go  back  defeated,  "to  be  exposed  to  the  cen 
sure  and  reproach  of  an  ignorant  populace."  In  other 
moods  he  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  sacrifice  what  was 
left  of  his  diminished  army  in  vain  conflict  with  hope 
less  obstacles.  But  his  final  resolve  once  taken,  he 
would  not  swerve  from  it.  His  fear  was  that  he  might 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  157 

not  be  able  to  load  his  troops  in  person.  "  I  know  per 
fectly  well  you  cannot  cure  me,"  he  said  to  his  physician  ; 
"  but  pray  make  me  up  so  that  I  may  be  without  pain 
for  a  few  days,  and  able  to  do  my  duty  :  that  is  all  I 
want." 

( )n  the  last  of  August,  he  was  able  for  the  first  time  to 
leave  the  house.  It  was  on  this  same  day  that  he  wrote 
his  last  letter  to  his  mother  :  "  My  writing  to  you  will 
convince  you  that  no  personal  evils  worse  than  defeats 
and  disappointments  have  fallen  upon  me.  The  enemy 
puts  nothing  to  risk,  and  I  can't  in  conscience  put  the 
whole  army  to  risk.  My  antagonist  has  wisely  shut 
himself  up  in  inaccessible  intrenchments,  so  that  I  can't 
get  at  him  without  spilling  a  torrent  of  blood?  and  that 
perhaps  to  little  purpose.  The  Marquis  de  Montcalm  is 
at  the  head  of  a  great  number  of  bad  soldiers,  and  I 
am  at  the  head  of  a  small  number  of  good  ones,  that 
wish  for  nothing  so  much  as  to  light  him ;  but  the  wary 
old  fellow  avoids  an  action,  doubtful  of  the  behavior 
of  his  army.  People  must  be  of  the  profession  to  un 
derstand  the  disadvantages  and  difficulties  we  labor 
under,  arising  from  the  uncommon  natural  strength  of 
the  country." 

On  the  second  of  September  a  vessel  was  sent  to  Eng 
land  with  his  last  despatch  to  Pitt.  It  begins  thus : 
"  The  obstacles  Ave  have  met  with  in  the  operations  of 
the  campaign  are  much  greater  than  we  had  reason  to 
expect  or  could  foresee ;  not  so  much  from  the  number 
of  the  enemy  (though  superior  to  us)  as  from  the  natu 
ral  strength  of  the  country,  which  the  Marquis  of  Mont- 
calm  seems  wisely  to  depend  upon.  When  I  learned 
that  succors  of  all  kinds  had  been  thrown  into  Quebec  ; 
that  five  battalions  of  regular  troops,  completed  from  the 
best  inhabitants  of  the  country,  some  of  the  troops  of 


158  QUEBEC. 

the  colony,  and  every  Canadian  that  was  able  to  bear 
arms,  besides  several  nations  of  savages,  had  taken  the 
field  in  a  very  advantageous  situation,  —  I  could  not 
flatter  myself  that  I  should  be  able  to  reduce  the  place. 
I  sought,  however,  an  occasion  to  attack  their  army, 
knowing  well  that  with  these  troops  I  was  able  to  fight, 
and  hoping  that  a  victory  might  disperse  them."  Then, 
after  recounting  the  events  of  the  campaign  with  ad 
mirable  clearness,  he  continues  :  "  I  found  myself  so  ill, 
and  am  still  so  weak,  that  I  begged  the  general  officers 
to  consult  together  for  the  general  utility.  They  are  all 
of  opinion  that,  as  more  ships  and  provisions  are  now 
got  above  the  town,  they  should  try,  by  conveying  up 
a  corps  of  four  or  five  thousand  men  (which  is  nearly 
the  whole  strength  of  the  army  after  the  Points  of  Levi 
and  Orleans  are  left  in  a  proper  state  of  defence),  to 
draw  the  enemy  from  their  present  situation  and  bring 
them  to  an  action.  I  have  acquiesced  in  the  proposal, 
and  we  are  preparing  to  put  it  into  execution."  The  let 
ter  ends  thus :  "  By  the  list  of  disabled  officers,  many 
of  whom  arc  of  rank,  you  may  perceive  that  the  army  is 
much  weakened.  By  the  nature  of  the  river,  the  most 
formidable  part  of  this  armament  is  deprived  of  the 
power  of  acting ;  yet  we  have  almost  the  whole  force  of 
Canada  to  oppose.  In  this  situation  there  is  such  a 
choice  of  difficulties  that  I  own  myself  at  a  loss  how  to 
determine.  The  affairs  of  Great  Britain,  I  know,  require 
the  most  vigorous  measures ;  but  the  courage  of  a  hand 
ful  of  brave  troops  should  be  exerted  only  when  there 
is  some  hope  of  a  favorable  event ;  however,  you  may 
be  assured  that  the  small  part  of  the  campaign  which 
remains  shall  be  employed,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  for  the 
honor  of  His  Majesty  and  the  interest  of  the  nation,  in 
which  I  am  sure  of  being  well  seconded  by  the  Admiral 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  159 

and  by  the  generals ;  happy  if  our  efforts  here  can  con 
tribute  to  the  success  of  His  Majesty's  arms  in  any  other 
parts  of  America." 

Perhaps  he  was  as  near  despair  as  his  undaunted 
nature  was  capable  of  being.  In  his  present  state  of 
body  and  mind  he  was  a  hero  without  the  light  and 
cheer  of  heroism.  He  flattered  himself  with  no  illu 
sions,  but  saw  the  worst  and  faced  it  all.  He  seems 
to  have  been  entirely  without  excitement.  The  languor 
of  disease,  the  desperation  of  the  chances,  and  the  great 
ness  of  the  stake  may  have  wrought  to  tranquillize  him. 
His  energy  was  doubly  tasked :  to  bear  up  his  own 
sinking  frame,  and  to  achieve  an  almost  hopeless  feat 
of  arms. 

Audacious  as  it  was,  his  plan  cannot  be  called  rash 
if  we  may  accept  the  statement  of  two  well-informed 
writers  on  the  French  side.  They  say  that  on  the  tenth 
of  September  the  English  naval  commanders  held  a 
council  on  board  the  flagship,  in  which  it  was  resolved 
that  the  lateness  of  the  season  required  the  fleet  to  leave 
Quebec  without  delay.  They  say  further  that  Wolfe 
then  went  to  the  Admiral,  told  him  that  he  had  found  a 
place  where  the  heights  could  be  scaled,  that  he  would 
send  up  a  hundred  and  fifty  picked  men  to  feel  the  way, 
and  that  if  they  gained  a  lodgment  at  the  top,  the  other 
troops  should  follow ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  French 
were  there  in  force  to  oppose  them,  he  would  not  sacri 
fice  the  army  in  a  hopeless  attempt,  but  embark  them 
for  home,  consoled  by  the  thought  that  all  had  been 
done  that  man  could  do.  On  this,  concludes  the  story, 
the  Admiral  and  his  officers  consented  to  wait  the 
result. 

As  Wolfe  had  informed  Pitt,  his  army  was  greatly 
weakened.  Since  the  end  of  June  his  loss  in  killed 


100  QUEBEC. 

and  wounded  was  more  than  eight  hundred  and  fifty, 
including  two  colonels,  two  majors,  nineteen  captains, 
and  thirty-four  subalterns;  and  to  these  were  to  be 
added  a  greater  number  disabled  by  disease. 

The  squadron  of  Admiral  Holmes  above  Quebec  had 
now  increased  to  twenty-two  vessels,  great  and  small. 
One  of  the  last  that  went  up  was  a  diminutive  schooner, 
armed  with  a  few  swivels,  and  jocosely  named  the 
"  Terror  of  France."  She  sailed  by  the  town  in  broad 
daylight,  the  French,  incensed  at  her  impudence,  blazing 
at  her  from  all  their  batteries  ;  but  she  passed  unharmed, 
anchored  by  the  Admiral's  ship,  and  saluted  him  tri 
umphantly  with  her  swivels. 

Wolfe's  first  move  towards  executing  his  plan  was  the 
critical  one  of  evacuating  the  cam])  at  Montmorenci. 
This  was  accomplished  on  the  third  of  September. 
Montcalm  sent  a  strong  force  to  fall  on  the  rear  of  the 
retiring  English.  Monckton  saw  the  movement  from 
Point  Levi,  embarked  two  battalions  in  the  boats  of  the 
fleet,  and  made  a  feint  of  landing  at  Beauport.  Mont- 
calm  recalled  his  troops  to  repulse  the  threatened  attack  ; 
and  the  English  withdrew  from  Montmorenci  unmolested, 
some  to  the  Point  of  Orleans,  others  to  Point  Levi.  On 
the  night  of  the  fourth  a  fleet  of  flat  boats  passed  above 
the  town  with  the  baggage  and  stores.  On  the  fifth, 
Murray,  with  four  battalions,  marched  up  to  the  River 
Etechemin,  and  forded  it  under  a  hot  fire  from  the 
French  batteries  at  Sillery.  Monckton  and  Townshend 
followed  with  three  more  battalions,  and  the  united 
force,  of  about  thirty-six  hundred  men,  was  embarked 
on  board  the  ships  of  Holmes,  where  Wolfe  joined  them 
on  the  same  evening. 

These  movements  of  the  English  filled  the  French 
commanders  with  mingled  perplexity,  anxiety,  and  hope. 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  161 

A  deserter  told  them  that  Admiral  Saunders  was  im 
patient  to  be  gone.  Vaudreuil  grew  confident.  "  The 
breaking  up  of  the  camp  at  Montmorenci,"  he  says, 
"  and  the  abandonment  of  the  intrenchments  there,  the 
re-embarkation  on  board  the  vessels  above  Quebec  of  the 
troops  who  had  encamped  on  the  south  bank,  the  move 
ments  of  these  vessels,  the  removal  of  the  heaviest  pieces 
of  artillery  from  the  batteries  of  Point  Levi,  —  these  and 
the  lateness  of  the  season  all  combined  to  announce  the 
speedy  departure  of  the  fleet,  several  vessels  of  which 
had  even  sailed  down  the  river  already.  The  prisoners 
and  the  deserters  who  daily  came  in  told  us  that  this 
was  the  common  report  in  their  army."  He  wrote 
to  Bouiiamaque  on  the  first  of  September :  "  Every 
thing  proves  that  the  grand  design  of  the  English  has 
failed." 

Yet  he  was  ceaselessly  watchful.  So  was  Montcalm ; 
and  he,  too,  on  the  night  of  the  second,  snatched  a 
moment  to  write  to  Bourlamaque  from  his  headquarters 
in  the  stone  house,  by  the  river  of  Beauport :  "  The 
night  is  dark ;  it  rains ;  our  troops  are  in  their  tents, 
with  clothes  on,  ready  for  an  alarm ;  I  in  my  boots ; 
my  horses  saddled.  In  fact,  this  is  my  usual  way.  I 
wish  you  were  here ;  for  I  cannot  be  everywhere,  though 
I  multiply  myself,  and  have  not  taken  off  my  clothes 
since  the  twenty-third  of  June."  On  the  eleventh  of 
September  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  Bourlamaque,  and 
probably  the  last  that  his  pen  ever  traced.  "  I  am 
overwhelmed  with  work,  and  should  often  lose  temper, 
like  you,  if  I  did  not  remember  that  I  am  paid  by  Europe 
for  not  losing  it.  Nothing  new  since  my  last.  I  give 
the  enemy  another  month,  or  something  less,  to  stay 
here."  The  more  sanguine  Vaudreuil  would  hardly  give 
them  a  week. 

11 


162  QUEBEC. 

Meanwhile,  no  precaution  was  spared.  The  force 
under  Bougainville  above  Quebec  was  raised  to  three 
thousand  men.  He  was  ordered  to  watch  the  shore  as 
far  as  Jacqucs-Cartier,  and  follow  with  his  main  body 
every  movement  of  Holmes's  squadron.  There  was 
little  fear  for  the  heights  near  the  town;  they  were 
thought  inaccessible.  Even  Montcalm  believed  them 
safe,  and  had  expressed  himself  to  that  effect  some  time 
before.  "  We  need  not  suppose,"  he  wrote  to  Vaudreuil, 
"  that  the  enemy  have  Avings ; "  and  again,  speaking  of 
the  very  place  where  Wolfe  afterwards  landed,  "  I  swear 
to  you  that  a  hundred  men  posted  there  would  stop  their 
whole  army."  He  was  right.  A  hundred  watchful  and 
determined  men  could  have  held  the  position  long 
enough  for  reinforcements  to  come  up. 

The  hundred  men  were  there.  Captain  de  Vergor, 
of  the  colony  troops,  commanded  them,  and  reinforce 
ments  were  within  his  call ;  for  the  battalion  of  Guienne 
had  been  ordered  to  encamp  close  at  hand  on  the  Plains 
of  Abraham.  Vergor's  post,  called  Anse  du  Foulon, 
was  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Quebec.  A  little  beyond  it, 
by  the  brink  of  the  cliffs,  was  another  post,  called  Samos, 
held  by  seventy  men  with  four  cannon ;  and,  beyond 
this  again,  the  heights  of  Sillery  were  guarded  by  a  hun 
dred  and  thirty  men,  also  with  cannon.  These  were 
outposts  of  Bougainville,  whose  headquarters  were  at 
Cap-Rouge,  six  miles  above  Sillery,  and  whose  troops 
were  in  continual  movement  along  the  intervening  shore. 
Thus  all  was  vigilance ;  for  while  the  French  were 
strong  in  the  hope  of  speedy  delivery,  they  felt  that 
there  was  no  safety  till  the  tents  of  the  invader  had 
vanished  from  their  shores  and  his  ships  from  their 
river.  "  What  we  knew,"  says  one  of  them,  "  of  the 
character  of  M.  Wolfe,  that  impetuous,  bold,  and 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF   ABRAHAM.  163 

intrepid  warrior,  prepared  us  for  a  last  attack  before  he 
left  us." 

Wolfe  had  been  very  ill  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth. 
The  troops  knew  it,  and  their  spirits  sank  ;  but,  after  a 
night  of  torment,  he  grew  better,  and  was  soon  among 
them  again,  rekindling  their  ardor,  and  imparting  a 
cheer  that  he  could  not  share.  For  himself  he  had  no 
pity  ;  but  when  he  heard  of  the  illness  of  two  officers  in 
one  of  the  ships,  he  sent  them  a  message  of  warm  sym 
pathy,  advised  them  to  return  to  Point  Levi,  and  offered 
them  his  own  barge  and  an  escort.  They  thanked  him, 
but  replied  that,  come  what  might,  they  would  see  the 
enterprise  to  an  end.  Another  officer  remarked  in  his 
hearing  that  one  of  the  invalids  had  a  very  delicate  con 
stitution.  "  Don't  tell  me  of  constitution,"  said  Wolfe  ; 
"  he  has  good  spirit,  and  good  spirit  will  carry  a  man 
through  everything."  An  immense  moral  force  bore  up 
his  OAvn  frail  body  and  forced  it  to  its  work. 

Major  Robert  Stobo,  who,  five  years  before,  had  been 
given  as  a  hostage  to  the  French  at  the  capture  of 
Fort  Necessity,  arrived  about  this  time  in  a  vessel  from 
Halifax.  He  had  long  been  a  prisoner  at  Quebec,  not 
always  in  close  custody,  and  had  used  his  opportunities 
to  acquaint  himself  with  the  neighborhood.  In  the 
spring  of  this  year  he  and  an  officer  of  rangers  named 
Stevens  had  made  their  escape  with  extraordinary  skill 
and  daring ;  and  he  now  returned  to  give  his  country 
men  the  benefit  of  his  local  knowledge.  His  biographer 
says  that  it  was  he  who  directed  Wolfe  in  the  choice 
of  a  landing-place.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Wolfe  in  person 
examined  the  river  and  the  shores  as  far  as  Pointe-aux- 
Trembles  ;  till  at  length,  landing  on  the  south  side  a 
little  above  Quebec,  and  looking  across  the  water  with 
a  telescope,  he  descried  a  path  that  ran  with  a  long 


164  QUEBEC. 

slope  up  the  face  of  the  woody  precipice,  and  saw  at  the 
top  a  cluster  of  tents.  They  were  those  of  Vergor's 
guard  at  the  Anse  du  Foulon,  now  called  Wolfe's  Cove. 
As  he  could  see  but  ten  or  twelve  of  them,  he  thought 
that  the  guard  could  not  be  numerous,  and  might  be 
overpowered.  His  hope  would  have  been  stronger  if  he 
had  known  that  Vergor  had  once  been  tried  for  mis 
conduct  and  cowardice  in  the  surrender  of  Beause*jour, 
and  saved  from  merited  disgrace  by  the  friendship  of 
the  intendant  Bigot  and  the  protection  of  Vaudreuil. 

The  morning  of  the  seventh  was  fair  and  warm,  and 
the  vessels  of  Holmes,  their  crowded  decks  gay  with 
scarlet  uniforms,  sailed  up  the  river  to  Cap-Rouge.  A 
lively  scene  awaited  them ;  for  here  were  the  head 
quarters  of  Bougainville,  and  here  lay  his  principal 
force,  while  the  rest  watched  the  banks  above  and 
below.  The  cove  into  which  the  little  river  runs  was 
guarded  by  floating  batteries  ;  the  surrounding  shore 
was  defended  by  breastworks ;  and  a  large  body  of 
regulars,  militia,  and  mounted  Canadians  in  blue  uni 
forms  moved  to  and  fro,  with  restless  activity,  on  the 
hills  behind.  When  the  vessels  came  to  anchor,  the 
horsemen  dismounted  and  formed  in  line  with  the  in 
fantry  ;  then,  with  loud  shouts,  the  whole  rushed  down 
the  heights  to  man  their  works  at  the  shore.  That 
true  Briton,  Captain  Knox,  looked  on  with  a  critical 
eye  from  the  gangway  of  his  ship,  and  wrote  that  night 
in  his  Diary  that  they  had  made  a  ridiculous  noise. 
"  How  different !  "  he  exclaims,  "  how  nobly  awful  and 
expressive  of  true  valor  is  the  customary  silence  of 
the  British  troops  !  " 

In  the  afternoon  the  ships  opened  fire,  while  the 
troops  entered  the  boats  and  rowed  up  and  down  as 
if  looking  for  a  landing-place.  It  was  but  a  feint  of 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  165 

Wolfe  to  deceive  Bougainville  as  to  his  real  design. 
A  heavy  easterly  rain  set  in  on  the  next  morning,  and 
lasted  two  days  without  respite.  All  operations  were 
suspended,  and  the  men  suffered  greatly  in  the  crowded 
transports.  Half  of  them  were  therefore  landed  on  the 
south  shore,  where  they  made  their  quarters  in  the 
village  of  St.  Nicolas,  refreshed  themselves,  and  dried 
their  wet  clothing,  knapsacks,  and  blankets. 

For  several  successive  days  the  squadron  of  Holmes 
was  allowed  to  drift  up  the  river  with  the  flood  tide  and 
down  with  the  ebb,  thus  passing  and  repassing  inces 
santly  between  the  neighborhood  of  Quebec  on  one 
hand,  and  a  point  high  above  Cap-Rouge  on  the  other  ; 
while  Bougainville,  perplexed,  and  always  expecting  an 
attack,  followed  the  ships  to  and  fro  along  the  shore, 
by  day  and  by  night,  till  his  men  were  exhausted  with 
ceaseless  forced  marches. 

At  last  the  time  for  action  came.  On  Wednesday, 
the  twelfth,  the  troops  at  St.  Nicolas  were  embarked 
again,  and  all  were  told  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness. 
Wolfe,  from  the  flagship  "  Sutherland,"  issued  his  last 
general  orders.  "  The  enemy's  force  is  now  divided, 
great  scarcity  of  provisions  in  their  camp,  and  universal 
discontent  among  the  Canadians.  Our  troops  below  are 
in  readiness  to  join  us  ;  all  the  light  artillery  and  tools 
are  embarked  at  the  Point  of  Levi ;  and  the  troops  will 
land  where  the  French  seem  least  to  expect  it.  The 
first  body  that  gets  on  shore  is  to  march  directly  to  the 
enemy  and  drive  them  from  any  little  post  they  may 
occupy  ;  the  officers  must  be  careful  that  the  succeeding 
bodies  do  not  by  any  mistake  fire  on  those  who  go 
before  them.  The  battalions  must  form  on  the  upper 
ground  with  expedition,  and  be  ready  to  charge  what 
ever  presents  itself.  When  the  artillery  and  troops  are 


166  QUEBEC. 

landed,  a  corps  will  be  left  to  secure  the  landing-place, 
while  the  rest  march  on  and  endeavor  to  bring  the 
Canadians  and  French  to  a  battle.  The  officers  and 
men  will  remember  what  their  country  expects  from 
them,  and  what  a  determined  body  of  soldiers  inured 
to  war  is  capable  of  doing  against  five  weak  French 
battalions  mingled  with  a  disorderly  peasantry." 

The  spirit  of  the  army  answered  to  that  of  its  chief. 
The  troops  loved  and  admired  their  general,  trusted 
their  officers,  and  were  ready  for  any  attempt.  "  Nay, 
how  could  it  be  otherwise,"  quaintly  asks  honest  Sergeant 
John  Johnson,  of  the  fifty-eighth  regiment,  "  being  at 
the  heels  of  gentlemen  whose  whole  thirst,  equal  with 
their  general,  was  for  glory  ?  We  had  seen  them  tried, 
and  always  found  them  sterling.  We  knew  that  they 
would  stand  by  us  to  the  last  extremity." 

Wolfe  had  thirty-six  hundred  men  and  officers  with 
him  on  board  the  vessels  of  Holmes  ;  and  he  now  sent 
orders  to  Colonel  Burton  at  Point  Levi  to  bring  to  his 
aid  all  who  could  be  spared  from  that  place  and  the 
Point  of  Orleans.  They  were  to  march  along  the  south 
bank,  after  nightfall,  and  wait  further  orders  at  a  desig 
nated  spot  convenient  for  embarkation.  Their  number 
was  about  twelve  hundred,  so  that  the  entire  force 
destined  for  the  enterprise  was  at  the  utmost  forty- 
eight  hundred.  With  these,  Wolfe  meant  to  climb  the 
heights  of  Abraham  in  the  teeth  of  an  enemy  who, 
though  much  reduced,  were  still  twice  as  numerous  as 
their  assailants. 

Admiral  Saunders  lay  with  the  main  fleet  in  the  Basin 
of  Quebec.  This  excellent  officer,  whatever  may  have 
been  his  views  as  to  the  necessity  of  a  speedy  departure, 
aided  Wolfe  to  the  last  with  unfailing  energy  and  zeal. 
It  was  agreed  between  them  that  while  the  General 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF   ABRAHAM.  167 

made  the  real  attack,  the  Admiral  should  engage  Mont- 
calm's  attention  by  a  pretended  one.  As  night  ap 
proached,  the  fleet  ranged  itself  along  the  Beauport 
shore;  the  boats  were  lowered  and  filled  with  sailors, 
marines,  and  the  few  troops  that  had  been  left  behind  ; 
while  ship  signalled  to  ship,  cannon  flashed  and  thun 
dered,  and  shot  ploughed  the  beach,  as  if  to  clear  a 
way  for  assailants  to  land.  In  the  gloom  of  the  evening 
the  effect  was  imposing.  Montcalm,  who  thought  that 
the  movements  of  the  English  above  the  town  were  only 
a  feint,  that  their  main  force  was  still  below  it,  and  that 
their  real  attack  would  be  made  there,  was  completely 
deceived,  and  massed  his  troops  in  front  of  Beauport  to 
repel  the  expected  landing.  But  while  in  the  fleet  of 
Saunders  all  was  uproar  and  ostentatious  menace,  the 
danger  was  ten  miles  away,  where  the  squadron  of 
Holmes  lay  tranquil  and  silent  at  its  anchorage  off 
Cap-Rouge. 

It  was  less  tranquil  than  it  seemed.  All  on  board 
knew  that  a  blow  would  be  struck  that  night,  though 
only  a  few  high  officers  knew  where.  Colonel  Howe,  of 
the  light  infantry,  called  for  volunteers  to  lead  the  un 
known  and  desperate  venture,  promising,  in  the  words 
of  one  of  them,  "  that  if  any  of  us  survived  we  might 
depend  on  being  recommended  to  the  General."  As 
many  as  were  wanted  —  twenty-four  in  all  —  soon  came 
forward.  Thirty  large  bateaux  and  some  boats  belong 
ing  to  the  squadron  lay  moored  alongside  the  vessels ; 
and  late  in  the  evening  the  troops  were  ordered  into 
them,  the  twenty-four  volunteers  taking  their  place  in 
the  foremost.  They  held  in  all  about  seventeen  hundred 
men.  The  rest  remained  on  board. 

Bougainville  could  discern  the  movement,  and  mis 
judged  it,  thinking  that  he  himself  was  to  be  attacked. 


168  QUEBEC. 

The  tide  was  still  flowing;  and,  the  better  to  deceive 
him,  the  vessels  and  boats  were  allowed  to  drift  up 
ward  with  it  for  a  little  distance,  as  if  to  land  above 
Cap-Rouge. 

The  day  had  been  fortunate  for  Wolfe.  Two  desert 
ers  came  from  the  camp  of  Bougainville  with  intelli 
gence  that,  at  ebb  tide  on  the  next  night,  he  was  to 
send  down  a  convoy  of  provisions  to  Montcalm.  The 
necessities  of  the  camp  at  Beauport,  and  the  difficul 
ties  of  transportation  by  land,  had  before  compelled  the 
French  to  resort  to  this  perilous  means  of  conveying 
supplies;  and  their  boats,  drifting  in  darkness  under 
the  shadows  of  the  northern  shore,  had  commonly  passed 
in  safety.  Wolfe  saw  at  once  that,  if  his  own  boats  went 
down  in  advance  of  the  convoy,  he  could  turn  the  in 
telligence  of  the  deserters  to  good  account. 

He  was  still  on  board  the  "  Sutherland."  Every 
preparation  was  made,  and  every  order  given  ;  it  only 
remained  to  wait  the  turning  of  the  tide.  Seated  with 
him  in  the  cabin  was  the  commander  of  the  sloop-of-war 
"  Porcupine,"  his  former  school-fellow  John  Jervis,  af 
terwards  Earl  St.  Vincent,  Wolfe  told  him  that  he 
expected  to  die  in  the  battle  of  the  next  day ;  and 
taking  from  his  bosom  a  miniature  of  Miss  Lowther, 
his  betrothed,  he  gave  it  to  him  with  a  request  that  he 
would  return  it  to  her  if  the  presentiment  should  prove 
true. 

Towards  two  o'clock  the  tide  began  to  ebb,  and  a 
fresh  wind  blew  down  the  river.  Two  lanterns  were 
raised  into  the  maintop  shrouds  of  the  "  Sutherland." 
It  was  the  appointed  signal ;  the  boats  cast  off  and 
fell  down  with  the  current,  those  of  the  light  infantry 
leading  the  way.  The  vessels  with  the  rest  of  the 
troops  had  orders  to  follow  a  little  later. 


THE   HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  169 

To  look  for  a  moment  at  the  chances  on  which  this 
bold  adventure  hung.  First,  the  deserters  told  Wolfe 
that  provision-boats  were  ordered  to  go  down  to  Quebec 
that  night ;  secondly,  Bougainville  countermanded  them ; 
thirdly,  the  sentries  posted  along  the  heights  were  told 
of  the  order,  but  not  of  the  countermand;  fourthly, 
V^ergor  at  the  Anse  du  Foulon  had  permitted  most  of 
his  men,  chiefly  Canadians  from  Lorette,  to  go  home  for 
a  time  and  work  at  their  harvesting,  on  condition,  it  is 
said,  that  they  should  afterwards  work  in  a  neighboring 
field  of  his  own;  fifthly,  he  kept  careless  watch,  and 
went  quietly  to  bed ;  sixthly,  the  battalion  of  Guienne, 
ordered  to  take  post  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  had, 
for  reasons  unexplained,  remained  encamped  by  the  St. 
Charles ;  and  lastly,  when  Bougainville  saw  Holmes's 
vessels  drift  down  the  stream,  he  did  not  tax  his  weary 
troops  to  follow  them,  thinking  that  they  would  return 
as  usual  with  the  flood  tide.  But  for  these  conspiring 
circumstances  New  France  might  have  lived  a  little 
longer,  and  the  fruitless  heroism  of  Wolfe  would  have 
passed,  with  countless  other  heroisms,  into  oblivion. 

For  full  two  hours  the  procession  of  boats,  borne  on 
the  current,  steered  silently  down  the  St.  Lawrence. 
The  stars  were  visible,  but  the  night  was  moonless 
and  sufficiently  dark.  The  General  was  in  one  of 
the  foremost  boats,  and  near  him  was  a  young  mid 
shipman,  John  Robison,  afterwards  professor  of  natural 
philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  He  used  to 
tell  in  his  later  life  how  Wolfe,  with  a  low  voice, 
repeated  Gray's  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard  to  the 
officers  about  him.  Probably  it  was  to  relieve  the  in 
tense  strain  of  his  thoughts.  Among  the  rest  was  the 
verse  which  his  own  fate  was  soon  to  illustrate, — 
"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 


170  QUEBEC. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  as  his  recital  ended,  "  I  would 
rather  have  written  those  lines  than  take  Quebec." 
None  were  there  to  tell  him  that  the  hero  is  greater 
than  the  poet. 

As  they  neared  their  destination,  the  tide  bore  them 
in  towards  the  shore,  and  the  mighty  wall  of  rock  and 
forest  towered  in  darkness  on  their  left.  The  dead 
stillness  was  suddenly  broken  by  the  sharp  Qui  vive  !  of 
a  French  sentry,  invisible  in  the  thick  gloom.  France  ! 
answered  a  Highland  officer  of  Eraser's  regiment. from 
one  of  the  boats  of  the  light  infantry.  He  had  served 
in  Holland,  and  spoke  French  fluently. 

A  quel  regiment  ? 

De  la  Heine,  replied  the  Highlander.  He  knew  that 
a  part  of  that  corps  was  with  Bougainville.  The  sentry, 
expecting  the  convoy  of  provisions,  was  satisfied,  and 
did  not  ask  for  the  password. 

Soon  after,  the  foremost  boats  were  passing  the  heights 
of  Samos,  when  another  sentry  challenged  them,  and 
they  could  see  him  through  the  darkness  running  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  water,  within  range  of  a  pistol-shot. 
In  answer  to  his  questions,  the  same  officer  replied,  in 
French  :  "  Provision-boats.  Don't  make  a  noise  ;  the 
English  will  hear  us."  In  fact,  the  sloop-of-war 
"Hunter"  was  anchored  in  the  stream  not  far  off. 
This  time,  again,  the  sentry  let  them  pass.  In  a  few 
moments  they  rounded  the  headland  above  the  Anse  du 
Foulon.  There  was  no  sentry  there.  The  strong  cur 
rent  swept  the  boats  of  the  light  infantry  a  little  below 
the  intended  landing-place.  They  disembarked  on  a 
narrow  strand  at  the  foot  of  heights  as  steep  as  a  hill 
covered  with  trees  can  be.  The  twenty-four  volunteers 
led  the  way,  climbing  with  what  silence  they  might, 
closely  followed  by  a  much  larger  body.  When  they 


THE   HEIGHTS    OF   ABRAHAM.  171 

reached  the  top  they  saw  in  the  dim  light  a  cluster  of 
tents  at  a  short  distance,  and  immediately  made  a  dash 
at  them.  Vergor  leaped  from  bed  and  tried  to  run  off, 
but  was  shot  in  the  heel  and  captured.  His  men,  taken 
by  surprise,  made  little  resistance.  One  or  two  were 
caught,  and  the  rest  fled. 

The  main  body  of  troops  waited  in  their  boats  by  the 
edge  of  the  strand.  The  heights  near  by  were  cleft  by 
a  great  ravine  choked  with  forest  trees ;  and  in  its 
depths  ran  a  little  brook  called  Ruisseau  St.-Denis, 
which,  swollen  by  the  late  rains,  fell  plashing  in  the 
stillness  over  a  rock.  Other  than  this  no  sound  could 
reach  the  strained  ear  of  Wolfe  but  the  gurgle  of  the 
tide  and  the  cautious  climbing  of  his  advance-parties  as 
they  mounted  the  steeps  at  some  little  distance  from 
where  he  sat  listening.  At  length  from  the  top  came 
a  sound  of  musket-shots,  followed  by  loud  huzzas,  and 
he  knew  that  his  men  were  masters  of  the  position. 
The  word  was  given  ;  the  troops  leaped  from  the  boats 
and  scaled  the  heights,  some  here,  some  there,  clutching 
at  trees  and  bushes,  their  muskets  slung  at  their  backs. 
Tradition  still  points  out  the  place,  near  the  mouth  of 
the  ravine,  where  the  foremost  reached  the  top.  Wolfe 
said  to  an  officer  near  him :  "  You  can  try  it,  but  I  don't 
think  you'll  get  up."  He  himself,  however,  found 
strength  to  drag  himself  up  with  the  rest.  The  narrow 
slanting  path  on  the  face  of  the  heights  had  been  made 
impassable  by  trenches  and  abatis ;  but  all  obstructions 
were  soon  cleared  away,  and  then  the  ascent  was  easy. 
In  the  gray  of  the  morning  the  long  file  of  red-coated 
soldiers  moved  quickly  upward,  and  formed  in  order 
on  the  plateau  above. 

Before  many  of  them  had  reached  the  top,  cannon 
were  heard  close  on  the  left.  It  was  the  battery  at 


172  QUEBEC. 

Samos  firing  on  the  boats  in  the  rear  and  the  vessels 
descending  from  Cap-Rouge.  A  party  was  sent  to 
silence  it ;  this  was  soon  effected,  and  the  more  distant 
battery  at  Sillery  was  next  attacked  and  taken.  As  fast 
as  the  boats  were  emptied  they  returned  for  the  troops 
left  on  board  the  vessels  and  for  those  waiting  on  the 
southern  shore  under  Colonel  Burton. 

The  day  broke  in  clouds  and  threatening  rain. 
Wolfe's  battalions  were  drawn  up  along  the  crest  of  the 
heights.  No  enemy  was  in  sight,  though  a  body  of 
Canadians  had  sallied  from  the  town  and  moved  along 
the  strand  towards  the  landing-place,  whence  they  were 
quickly  driven  back.  He  had  achieved  the  most  critical 
part  of  his  enterprise ;  yet  the  success  that  he  coveted 
placed  him  in  imminent  danger.  On  one  side  was  the 
garrison  of  Quebec  and  the  army  of  Beauport,  and 
Bougainville  was  on  the  other.  Wolfe's  alternative 
was  victory  or  ruin;  for  if  he  should  be  overwhelmed 
by  a  combined  attack,  retreat  would  be  hopeless. 
His  feelings  no  man  can  know;  but  it  would  be 
safe  to  say  that  hesitation  or  doubt  had  no  part  in 
them. 

He  went  to  reconnoitre  the  ground,  and  soon  came 
to  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  so  called  from  Abraham 
Martin,  a  pilot  known  as  Maitre  Abraham,  who  had 
owned  a  piece  of  land  here  in  the  early  times  of  the 
colony.  The  Plains  were  a  tract  of  grass,  tolerably 
level  in  most  parts,  patched  here  and  there  with  corn 
fields,  studded  with  clumps  of  bushes,  and  forming  a 
part  of  the  high  plateau  at  the  eastern  end  of  which 
Quebec  stood.  On  the  south  it  was  bounded  by  the 
declivities  along  the  St.  Lawrence ;  on  the  north,  by 
those  along  the  St.  Charles,  or  rather  along  the  mead 
ows  through  which  that  lazy  stream  crawled  like  a 


THE   HEIGHTS    OF   ABRAHAM.  173 

writhing  snake.  At  the  place  that  Wolfe  chose  for 
his  battle-field  the  plateau  was  less  than  a  mile 
wide. 

Thither  the  troops  advanced,  marched  by  files  till 
they  reached  the  ground,  and  then  wheeled  to  form  their 
line  of  battle,  which  stretched  across  the  plateau  and 
faced  the  city.  It  consisted  of  six  battalions  and  the 
detached  grenadiers  from  Louisbourg,  all  drawn  up  in 
ranks  three  deep.  Its  right  wing  was  near  the  brink 
of  the  heights  along  the  St.  Lawrence;  but  the  left 
could  not  reach  those  along  the  St.  Charles.  On  this 
side  a  wide  space  was  perforce  left  open,  and  there  was 
danger  of  being  outflanked.  To  prevent  this,  Brigadier 
Townshend  was  stationed  here  with  two  battalions, 
drawn  up  at  right  angles  with  the  rest,  and  fronting  the 
St.  Charles.  The  battalion  of  Webb's  regiment,  under 
Colonel  Burton,  formed  the  reserve  ;  the  third  battalion 
of  Royal  Americans  was  left  to  guard  the  landing ;  and 
Howe's  light  infantry  occupied  a  wood  far  in  the  rear. 
Wolfe,  with  Monckton  and  Murray,  commanded  the 
front  line,  on  which  the  heavy  fighting  was  to  fall,  and 
which,  when  all  the  troops  had  arrived,  numbered  less 
than  thirty-five  hundred  men. 

Quebec  was  not  a  mile  distant,  but  they  could  not 
see  it ;  for  a  ridge  of  broken  ground  intervened,  called 
Buttes-a-Neveu,  about  six  hundred  paces  off.  The  first 
division  of  troops  had  scarcely  come  up  when,  about  six 
o'clock,  this  ridge  was  suddenly  thronged  with  white 
uniforms.  It  was  the  battalion  of  Guienne,  arrived  at 
the  eleventh  hour  from  its  camp  by  the  St.  Charles. 
Some  time  after  there  was  hot  firing  in  the  rear.  It 
came  from  a  detachment  of  Bougainville's  command 
attacking  a  house  where  some  of  the  light  infantry  were 
posted.  The  assailants  were  repulsed,  and  the  firing 


174  QUEBEC. 

ceased.  Light  showers  fell  at  intervals,  besprinkling 
the  troops  as  they  stood  patiently  waiting  the  event. 
Montcalm  had  passed  a  troubled  night.  Through  all 
the  evening  the  cannon  bellowed  from  the  ships  of 
Saunders,  and  the  boats  of  the  fleet  hovered  in  the  dusk 
off  the  Beauport  shore,  threatening  every  moment  to 
land.  Troops  lined  the  intrenchments  till  day,  while 
the  General  walked  the  field  that  adjoined  his  head 
quarters  till  one  in  the  morning,  accompanied  by  the 
Chevalier  Johnstone  and  Colonel  Poulariez.  Johnstone 
says  that  he  was  in  great  agitation,  and  took  no  rest 
all  night.  At  daybreak  he  heard  the  sound  of  cannon 
above  the  town.  It  was  the  battery  at  Samos  firing  on 
the  English  ships.  He  had  sent  an  officer  to  the  quarters 
of  Vaudrcuil,  which  were  much  nearer  Quebec,  with 
orders  to  bring  him  word  at  once  should  anything 
unusual  happen.  But  no  word  came,  and  about  six 
o'clock  he  mounted  and  rode  thither  with  Johnstone. 
As  they  advanced,  the  country  behind  the  town  opened 
more  and  more  upon  their  sight ;  till  at  length,  when 
opposite  VaudremTs  house,  they  saw  across  the  St. 
Charles,  some  two  miles  away,  the  red  ranks  of  British 
soldiers  on  the  heights  beyond. 

"  This  is  a  serious  business,"  Montcalm  said  ;  and 
sent  off  Johnstone  at  full  gallop  to  bring  up  the  troops 
from  the  centre  and  left  of  the  camp.  Those  of  the 
right  were  in  motion  already,  doubtless  by  the  Governor's 
order.  Yaudreuil  came  out  of  the  house.  Montcalm 
stopped  for  a  few  words  with  him  ;  then  set  spurs  to 
his  horse,  and  rode  over  the  bridge  of  the  St.  Charles  to 
the  scene  of  danger.  He  rode  with  a  fixed  look,  uttering 
not  a  word. 

The  army  followed  in  such  order  as  it  might,  crossed 
the  bridge  in  hot  haste,  passed  under  the  northern  ram- 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  175 

part  of  Quebec,  entered  at  the  Palace  Gate,  and  pressed 
on  in  headlong  march  along  the  quaint  narrow  streets 
of  the  warlike  town :  troops  of  Indians  in  scalplocks  and 
war-paint,  a  savage  glitter  in  their  deep-set  eyes  ;  bands 
of  Canadians  whose  all  was  at  stake,  —  faith,  country, 
and  home  ;  the  colony  regulars  ;  the  battalions  of  Old 
France,  a  torrent  of  white  uniforms  and  gleaming  bayo 
nets,  La  Sarre,  Languedoc,  Boussillon,  Be'arn,  —  victors 
of  Oswego,  William  Henry,  and  Ticonderoga.  So  they 
swept  on.  poured  out  upon  the  plain,  some  by  the  gate 
of  St.  Louis,  and  some  by  that  of  St  John,  and  hurried, 
breathless,  to  where  the  banners  of  Guienne  still  fluttered 
on  the  ridge. 

Montcalm  was  amazed  at  what  he  saw.  He  had 
expected  a  detachment,  and  he  found  an  army.  Full  in 
sight  before  him  stretched  the  lines  of  Wolfe  :  the  close 
ranks  of  the  English  infantry,  a  silent  wall  of  red,  and 
the  wild  array  of  the  Highlanders,  with  their  waving 
tartans,  and  bagpipes  screaming  defiance.  Vaudreuil 
had  not  come ;  but  not  the  less  was  felt  the  evil  of  a 
divided  authority  and  the  jealousy  of  the  rival  chiefs. 
Montcalm  waited  long  for  the  forces  he  had  ordered  to 
join  him  from  the  left  wing  of  the  army.  He  waited  in 
vain.  It  is  said  that  the  Governor  had  detained  them, 
lest  the  English  should  attack  the  Beauport  shore.  Even 
if  they  did  so,  and  succeeded,  the  French  might  defy 
them,  could  they  but  put  Wolfe  to  rout  on  the  Plains  of 
Abraham.  Neither  did  the  garrison  of  Quebec  come  to 
the  aid  of  Montcalm.  He  sent  to  Ramesay,  its  com 
mander,  for  twenty-five  field-pieces  which  were  on  the 
Palace  battery.  Ramesay  would  give  him  only  three,  say 
ing  that  he  wanted  them  for  his  own  defence.  There 
were  orders  and  counter-orders  ;  misunderstanding,  haste, 
delay,  perplexity. 


176  QUEBEC. 

Montcalm  and  his  chief  officers  held  a  council  of  war. 
It  is  said  that  he  and  they  alike  were  for  immediate 
attack.  His  enemies  declare  that  he  was  afraid  lest 
Vaudreuil  should  arrive  and  take  command  ;  but  the 
Governor  was  not  a  man  to  assume  responsibility  at 
such  a  crisis.  Others  say  that  his  impetuosity  over 
came  his  better  judgment ;  and  of  this  charge  it  is  hard 
to  acquit  him.  Bougainville  was  but  a  few  miles  dis 
tant,  and  some  of  his  troops  were  much  nearer  ;  a  mes 
senger  sent  by  way  of  Old  Lorette  could  have  reached 
him  in  an  hour  and  a  half  at  most,  and  a  combined 
attack  in  front  and  rear  might  have  been  concerted  with 
him.  If,  moreover,  Montcalm  could  have  come  to  an 
understanding  with  Vaudreuil,  his  own  force  might 
have  been  strengthened  by  two  or  three  thousand  addi 
tional  men  from  the  town  and  the  camp  of  Beauport ; 
but  he  felt  that  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  for  he  imag 
ined  that  Wolfe  would  soon  be  reinforced,  which  was 
impossible,  and  he  believed  that  the  English  were  forti 
fying  themselves,  which  was  no  less  an  error.  He  has 
been  blamed  not  only  for  fighting  too  soon,  but  for 
fighting  at  all.  In  this  he  could  not  choose.  Fight  lie 
must,  for  Wolfe  was  now  in  a  position  to  cut  off  all  his 
supplies.  His  men  were  full  of  ardor,  and  he  resolved 
to  attack  before  their  ardor  cooled.  He  spoke  a  few 
words  to  them  in  his  keen,  vehement  way.  "  I  remem 
ber  very  well  how  he  looked,"  one  of  the  Canadians, 
then  a  boy  of  eighteen,  used  to  say  in  his  old  age  ;  "  he 
rode  a  black  or  dark  bay  horse  along  the  front  of  our 
lines,  brandishing  his  sword,  as  if  to  excite  us  to  do  our 
duty.  He  wore  a  coat  with  wide  sleeves,  which  fell 
back  as  he  raised  his  arm,  and  showed  the  white  linen 
of  the  wristband." 

The  English  waited  the  result  with  a  composure  which, 


THE    HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  177 

if  not  quite  real,  was  at  least  well  feigned.  The  three 
field-pieces  sent  by  Ramesay  plied  them  with  canister- 
shot,  and  fifteen  hundred  Canadians  -and  Indians  fusil 
laded  them  in  front  and  flank.  Over  all  the  plain,  from 
behind  bushes  and  knolls  and  the  edge  of  cornfields,  puffs 
of  smoke  sprang  incessantly  from  the  guns  of  these  hid 
den  marksmen.  Skirmishers  were  thrown  out  before 
the  lines  to  hold  them  in  check,  and  the  soldiers  were 
ordered  to  lie  on  the  grass  to  avoid  the  shot.  The  firing 
was  liveliest  on  the  English  left,  where  bands  of  sharp 
shooters  got  under  the  edge  of  the  declivity,  among 
thickets,  and  behind  scattered  houses,  whence  they 
killed  and  wounded  a  considerable  number  of  Towns- 
hend's  men.  The  light  infantry  were  called  up  from 
the  rear.  The  houses  were  taken  and  retaken,  and  one 
or  more  of  them  was  burned. 

Wolfe  was  everywhere.  How  cool  he  was,  and  why 
his  followers  loved  him,  is  shown  by  an  incident  that 
happened  in  the  course  of  the  morning.  One  of  his 
captains  was  shot  through  the  lungs ;  and  on  recovering 
consciousness  he  saw  the  General  standing  at  his  side. 
Wolfe  pressed  his  hand,  told  him  not  to  despair,  praised 
his  services,  promised  him  early  promotion,  and  sent  an 
aide-de-camp  to  Monckton  to  beg  that  officer  to  keep  the 
promise  if  he  himself  should  fall. 

It  was  towards  ten  o'clock  when,  from  the  high 
ground  on  the  right  of  the  line,  Wolfe  saw  that  the 
crisis  was  near.  The  French  on  the  ridge  had  formed 
themselves  into  three  bodies,  regulars  in  the  centre, 
regulars  and  Canadians  on  right  and  left.  Two  field- 
pieces,  which  had  been  dragged  up  the  heights  at  Anse 
du  Foulon,  fired  on  them  with  grape-shot,  and  the  troops, 
rising  from  the  ground,  prepared  to  receive  them.  In 
a  few  moments  more  they  were  in  motion.  They  came 

12 


178  QUEBEC. 

on  rapidly,  uttering  loud  shouts,  and  firing  as  soon  as 
they  were  within  range.  Their  ranks,  ill  ordered  at  the 
best,  were  further  confused  by  a  number  of  Canadians 
who  had  been  mixed  among  the  regulars,  and  who,  after 
hastily  firing,  threw  themselves  on  the  ground  to  reload. 
The  British  advanced  a  few  rods  ;  then  halted  and  stood 
still.  When  the  French  were  within  forty  paces  the 
word  of  command  rang  out,  and  a  crash  of  musketry 
answered  all  along  the  line.  The  volley  was  delivered 
with  remarkable  precision.  In  the  battalions  of  the 
centre,  which  had  suffered  least  from  the  enemy's  bul 
lets,  the  simultaneous  explosion  was  afterwards  said  by 
French  officers  to  have  sounded  like  a  cannon-shot. 
Another  volley  followed,  and  then  a  furious  clattering 
fire  that  lasted  but  a  minute  or  two.  When  the  smoke 
rose,  a  miserable  sight  was  revealed :  the  ground  cum 
bered  with  dead  and  wounded,  the  advancing  masses 
stopped  short  and  turned  into  a  frantic  mob,  shouting, 
cursing,  gesticulating.  The  order  was  given  to  charge. 
Then  over  the  field  rose  the  British  cheer,  mixed  with 
the  fierce  yell  of  the  Highland  slogan.  Some  of  the 
corps  pushed  forward  with  the  bayonet ;  some  advanced 
firing.  The  clansmen  drew  their  broadswords  and 
dashed  on,  keen  and  swift  as  bloodhounds.  At  the 
English  right,  though  the  attacking  column  was  broken 
to  pieces,  a  fire  was  still  kept  up,  chiefly,  it  seems,  by 
sharpshooters  from  the  bushes  and  cornfields,  where 
they  had  lain  for  an  hour  or  more.  Here  Wolfe  him 
self  led  the  charge,  at  the  head  of  the  Louisbourg  gren 
adiers.  A  shot  shattered  his  wrist.  He  wrapped  his 
handkerchief  about  it  and  kept  on.  Another  shot  struck 
him,  and  he  still  advanced,  when  a  third  lodged  in  his 
breast.  He  staggered,  and  sat  on  the  ground.  Lieu 
tenant  Brown,  of  the  grenadiers,  one  Henderson,  a  vol- 


THE   HEIGHTS    OF    ABRAHAM.  179 

unteer  in  the  same  company,  and  a  private  soldier,  aided 
by  an  officer  of  artillery  who  ran  to  join  them,  carried 
him  in  their  arms  to  the  rear.  He  begged  them  to  lay 
him  down.  They  did  so,  and  asked  if  he  would  have  a 
surgeon.  u  There 's  no  need,"  he  answered;  "it's  all 
over  with  me."  A  moment  after,  one  of  them  cried 
out :  "  They  run ;  see  how  they  run  !  "  u  Who  run  ? " 
Wolfe  demanded,  like  a  man  roused  from  sleep.  "  The 
enemy,  sir.  Egad,  they  give  way  everywhere  !  "  "  Go, 
one  of  you,  to  Colonel  Burton,"  returned  the  dying  man  ; 
"  tell  him  to  march  Webb's  regiment  down  to  Charles 
River,  to  cut  off  their  retreat  from  the  bridge."  Then, 
turning  on  his  side,  he  murmured, "  Now,  God  be  praised, 
I  will  die  in  peace ! "  and  in  a  few  moments  his  gallant 
soul  had  fled. 

Montcalm,  still  on  horseback,  was  borne  with  the  tide 
of  fugitives  towards  the  town.  As  he  approached  the 
walls  a  shot  passed  through  his  body.  He  kept  his  seat ; 
two  soldiers  supported  him,  one  on  each  side,  and  led 
his  horse  through  the  St.  Louis  Gate.  On  the  open 
space  within,  among  the  excited  crowd,  were  several 
women,  drawn,  no  doubt,  by  eagerness  to  know  the 
result  of  the  fight.  One  of  them  recognized  him, 
saw  the  streaming  blood,  and  shrieked,  "  0  mon  Dieu  ! 
mon  Dieu  !  le  Marquis  est  tue  !  "  "  It 's  nothing,  it 's 
nothing,"  replied  the  death-stricken  man  ;  "  don't  be 
troubled  for  me,  my  good  friends."  ("  Ce  n'est  rien,  ce 
rfest  rien;  ne  vous  affligez  pas  pour  moi,  mes  bonnes 
amies") 

Some  of  the  fugitives  took  refuge  in  the  city  and 
others  escaped  across  the  St.  Charles.  In  the  next 
night  the  French  army  abandoned  Quebec  to  its  fate 
and  fled  up  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  city  soon  surren- 


180  QUEBEC. 

dered  to  Wolfe's  successor,  Brigadier  Townshend,  and 
the  English  held  it  during  the  winter.  In  April,  the 
French  under  the  Chevalier  de  Levis  made  a  bold  but 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  retake  it.  In  the  following 
summer,  General  Amherst  advanced  on  Montreal,  till 
in  September  all  Canada  was  forced  to  surrender,  and 
the  power  of  France  was  extinguished  on  the  North 
American  continent. 


University  Press :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge 


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